Dear Father,
by KewlkatLove
Summary: It's been a while since Roland last saw his little sister. And she's not so little anymore! He's also been worried about grudges that could still lie in place. After nearly ten years, she returns to the palace to finally meet their new family members. Old ties and new become apparent in this tale that goes deeper than just him. Emilia is back! And is as unenthusiastic as ever...
1. Dear Brother, I Have Arrived

**Dear Brother, I Have Arrived**

* * *

Growing up in a castle is not all it's cut out to be. That much I can tell you without a hint of hesitation on my end. Leaving was the most eventful point in my life. Believe it or not. Though I do miss my wacky older siblings, and a few quirks of the castle life, leaving was the most auspicious decision I ever made.

Returning was unimaginable.

That is, it _was_ unimaginable until I found myself in an outlandish carriage, one powered by two flying horses— royal flying horses, might I add— and all of my personal and important belongings shoved into the compartment beneath me.

Funny how but a few moments can change your life, eh?

I placed my elbow on the windowsill and allowed my chin to rest unceremoniously on the perched limb.

Apparently, Tilly has been keeping in touch with _both_ Roland and I— not that she'd bothered to tell me anything about the reports she's been giving him on my "wellbeing". For my brother and I have failed, to put it simply, in keeping track of one another.

Though I may not have the slightest clue as to how Enchancia or her king have been, I can take a pretty good guess. Knowing my brother, it isn't hard to picture the situations that have arose and how he's handled them: with lots of assistance and creative resolutions that is. With all of this confidence in his ability, I never really felt the need to check up on him. Ergo, I haven't bothered with the tedious task of polite conversational letters.

However confident I am in his abilities to run the kingdom, I have no doubt in my mind that he's remained ever the dependent recluse, not to be mean or anything. He has the infamously hereditary adventurous spirit, just like my sister and I, but he's always… _channeled_ it differently. _Very differently indeed,_ I thought with a shudder as my mind drifted to some of his more _inventive_ ideas back when I was still in the castle. And, if he applied them in the real world… on his own… with no one to interpret them into a bit cleaner of a proposition… let's just say he wouldn't last very long. Neither would his kingdom for that matter.

So he tends to stay put on his jewel-encrusted throne with his golden chalice in hand. (At least, that's how I picture him when I think of his status: the red royals' cape and all.) So one could place the blame of our lack of contact on my shoulders, considering no one ever really knows where I am.

No, I don't go on magical adventures like our eldest sister does. I simply don't see the joy in it. Never have, never will. Losing my life for an apple pie or chocolate cookies? No thanks. I tend to sit in one place until too many people gravitate towards my general direction, then I drift to another where less people know about my royal ancestry, or me in general.

You could say I like the simple life. That would be the nice unembellished way to put it. Whereas the blatant truth lies within the fact that I'm just the antisocial kind of person. Kind of a nice change to the stereotypical royal, no?

Why would I find the need to speak when both of my older siblings are better at it? Who would want to talk to the total weirdo when the semi-weirdos are around? Especially the soon-to-be king! Get on his good side while you can! I won't blame you, in fact, I encourage you to do so! Don't waste your time on me! Waves hand. Nah, don't mention it. I don't want to talk you either.

…Scratch that last part… I might get smacked for the mannerism…. Or the lack thereof…

Anyway, that's why I was always hidden in the back— well, that, and other, more _prominent_ reasons that I'll save for when you get to know me better. Don't want to leave a bad impression on the readers yet now do I?

I saw the massive pink castle come into view. My home— Correction: My _old_ home. I lost my breath for a second as I saw how green the kingdom lied behind it. It looked like those unearthly dreams you have of perfection as a kid. Of course, it was obviously this green during out father's rule— but there was never a peace-filled air such as this attached to it. Roland was doing a good job, I could just tell; even if I couldn't see the actual kingdom yet.

As my mind drifted, so did the carriage, and the kingdom suddenly came into view. My thoughts were confirmed. It was as perfect as I had imagined it to be under my _perfect_ brother's rule— I couldn't help the venom that came with the thought, so I changed the topic of mind to that of a more curious one.

If Tilly had been a boy, it would have been hers— though, undoubtedly, I couldn't possibly see her on a throne, all day, every day. She'd probably drive the royal adviser crazy with her magical disappearances.

That brings me to something else that has taxed me greatly in the past: And I did check multiple times, but there are no sorcerers in out ancestry. None. So her disappearances are completely rational… somehow.

I crawled to the seat across from mine and stuck my head through the little window to speak to the coachman.

"How far are we from it?" Despite my seeing it, it could always be my head messing with me— as it does more often than I would like.

"About five minutes, ma'am."

"Ah." I sat back and heavily sunk into my preordained seat.

 _I wonder if Roland is expecting me right now. I know that he knows I'm coming; Tilly told me so. And she usually keeps him pretty well updated on my whereabouts, since, after all, she can actually find me with the assistance of that little magic map of hers._ I absentmindedly stared across a new scenery. Scorn crossing my brow as I thought of Tilly's many magic accouterments.

The carriage swerved and, suddenly, the castle was infinitely larger in my view. My eyes flew wide as I drunk in the magnificence of it. Once we were nearer, we looped around the towers a few times for show— and, I'll admit, I couldn't quite hold back my gasp of awe.

Then we landed and my spine jolted, not quite readjusted to the sensations of riding in a flying coach. It took a few seconds for me to reassure myself that we were safely on the ground once again. This gave time for someone to rush out of the castle, looking more than a little perturbed at my sudden arrival.

"Miss? Are you alright?" A tall, thin man asked as he ran the back of his gloved hand over his perspiring forehead. He had opened my door and offered me his hand politely. I faintly recognized him to have been the new assistant back when my father was still king… Baileywick, was it?

"Indeed." I answered swiftly, commandingly, and authoritively. Oddly enough, and even after so many years, my lessons still seemed able to take over my behavior— or maybe it's just being back in the castle's menacingly intimidating presence that's wearing on me.

I grasped his hand gently, but firmly, and used it to lower myself from the highly-raised carriage.

"Welcome, Madame." He smiled dutifully. "The royal family is in the throne room awaiting your arrival."

I nodded, swallowing roughly as I drunk in the front entrance, remembering it distinctively after so many years and all of the emotions attached to it.

To say the least, they weren't pleasant ones.

* * *

 _"Sir! She ran away again!"_

 _"Don't you think I know that? I wouldn't be out here otherwise!" He thundered angrily to the panicked servant. "Child! Come back this instant!" He shouted even louder, knowing she had little choice once she heard his booming roar of a command. The trick was getting her to hear it._

 _The little girl, mere steps outside of the entrance, heard the command faintly and the pull stopped her in her tracks. She stopped moving, her legs locking up and rooting her to her place._

 _She fought the fear. She really did._

 _But there was no hope._

 _She was quickly seen and seized. Every time, drug back in clumsily by the guards, or her father's grip on her hair, that godawful entrance flooded her vision until she lost her way to the fear._

 _Failed. Again._

* * *

"Hello? Are you alright—?" He waved a hand in front of my vision, waking me from my trance.

I placed my hand gently on Baileywick's, making him drop it to his side and correct his posture. "I'm fine." I said throatily once again, offering no facial expressions of any comfort.

He looked at me curiously and I looked back at him severely. "Indeed you are." He agreed, not sounding convinced in the least.

I moved to grip my dress and to ride it up so that I could ascend the stairs, but stopped as I realized that I couldn't do that. Not here.

I delicately lifted the skirt with the tips of my fingers and glided up the marbled white steps. The door was opened and held open for me as I entered breathlessly. I didn't need a guide, but it was the routine to wait for one.

So I did.

These things had been drilled into my head as a kid to the point that they were the only things that I knew. Luckily, that wasn't the case anymore.

But who knows what kind of king Roland has been sanded into over the years? He could have ended up as strict as our own father for all I know.

I sure as hope not. Pray not.

I'll leave right this minute if he has.

Ah, but that's not right. Not possible. Not our defiant Roland. He always did things his own way, so sure that if he didn't do it personally, it wouldn't come out right.

I smiled at the thought of him and father warring it out, as he was a teen when I was a child. He was my role model and not much else otherwise, not even a friend when I needed one the most. Maybe that's why I avoid the castle, because I hold a grudge against him.

Really now, I'm being immature, how can I hold anything against _him_? He's running such a beautiful kingdom, there's no excuse for my not sending word to him other than my own thoughtlessness. No excuses. None.

I've also heard that he's taken wife from one of his own people, not someone of the "orthodoxed" family.

It's better this way in my opinion.

That's also my reason for coming here. I have yet to meet the bride, my new sister-in-law. Miranda. A name well suited to the throne: _Queen_ Miranda.

Unable to take much more time in my own mind, I brushed my guide's hand off of the throne room's handle, not the proper thing to do, but I could see that he didn't mind. He just laughed it off breathily as he stood at attention to the side. I opened the door just large enough for me to enter through.

There, in the throne room, my eyes connected with that of my brother's instantly. And, almost as instantly, his face lit up into my favorite grin. I flushed and released the door altogether, leaving the servant to close it.

I crossed my hands in front of my lap as I stared up at him. He rose to his feet with a great deal of anticipation riding in the air.

"Emilia!" He cried out giddily, spreading his arms wide as he ran at me full speed.

Wait a second… Full speed?!

"Roland…" I warned warily as he grew ever nearer. "Don't—!"

I was tackled in a big hug and lost my footing instantly. Roland kept me up and against him as he smothered me in an overzealous hug.

"You have to visit the castle more often than this!" He laughed as he released me after a strong shove, curtesy of myself. I scowled at him scornfully and he laughed sheepishly.

"Queen Miranda." I addressed graciously with a dip of my head as she approached at a much more appropriate speed. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Miranda is fine, if you please." She added, raising a delicate hand to dismiss the title, her voice much more bell-like and kind than my own. "And I hear that Amber and James haven't even met you before. The pleasure is indeed mine." She laughed good-naturedly.

The truth is… I didn't know Roland had had kids until _years_ after they were born.

Maybe I should strive a little harder to at least keep up with them somewhat. I certainly can't do any worse than what I've been doing.

"Well, Roland and I weren't all that close as kids…" I trailed off, not wanting to continue too deep, I even saw my brother flinch at the mention. "And he _is_ sixteen years older than I."

"So you're still in your early twenties?" Miranda looked bewildered.

Suddenly an arm was slung around my shoulders and a body was at my side. "She speaks so formally you would never guess. Am I right?"

I shrugged out of his grip and closed my eyes, not liking the familiarity of it all. "This castle holds too many memories." I murmured, slightly fearful, but breaking out of that mentality and scolding myself straight quickly afterwards. "Where are the kids? I'd love to meet them."

Miranda turned around and, upon realizing that they were not there and that there were cries of laughter off in the distance, took off after them. "I'll be back with them momentarily." She added as a second thought before exiting the room altogether.

I noticed that Roland was silent for once and turned to look at him. He was watching me with a sad look on his face and a slight bit of worry in his tone. Perhaps he heard what I said?

"You sure that it's a good idea for you to meet them?" He asked, completely dismissing the thought. "I mean kids… they aren't completely up-to-date with what is the proper level of what they can and can't do. They let things slip."

I smiled a rare smile at him, reassuring him. "It's fine. It's not like they are just going to pop up and start ordering me to do things." He cringed slightly at my bluntness with my own curse. "Plus, they're one of the bigger reasons that I came. I can't _not_ meet them."

He sighed and deflated. "I'm sure you expect me to stand here and keep an eye on their eloquence…"

I smiled and crossed my palms behind my back, straightening my posture further and smiling largely.

Two blondes ran into the room excitedly, pausing halfway across in shock. They gaped at my features and I frowned in confusion. "Hello?" I asked politely.

A littler girl skittered in and grabbed her knees momentarily in order to catch her breath. "Don't leave me like that!"

I watched her and thought of myself slightly with Tilly and Roland growing up. I blinked back confusion as she revealed her features to be much more along the lines of Miranda's.

"Uh… Roland?" I whispered.

"Hm?" He looked at me pleasantly.

"How long have you and Miranda been together?"

"A little under half a year. Why—? Oh." He looked at brown-headed little girl and then dropped his voice as well. "Step-daughter." He filled in.

"Ah." I smiled as I took the kids in, all of which were drinking in my appearance as well. "I know of Princess Amber and Prince James, aka the twins." I pointed to each as I said their names and the halted with my finger on the littlest one. "But I fear my list of names runs out on that."

They looked between each other excitedly, probably bewildered at my diction.

"I think you confused them." Roland snickered.

"I think you have some teaching to do." I mumbled back. "I'm sorry to say it but I do not know you name." I elaborated tiredly.

"Oh!" Her eyes went wide and her little lips made an o. "I'm Sofia!"

"Princess Sofia. Has a nice ring to it." I added politely reminding her to use her title, though I think she missed the hint. "I'm the sister of your father, your aunt Emilia. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

" _Princess_ Emilia." Roland corrected. I cringed. "Payback." He sung.

"You're a princess too?"

" _Technically._ I _am_ born of a king and queen." I muttered lowly. "But I am not too fond of my own title."

Amber whipped out her fan and gasped dramatically behind it. "Be proud of who you are!" She called out defiantly.

My teeth gnashed together and my hand reached out to grab Roland's sleeve as the panic rose and my control was stolen from me. My eyes went wide as my brother grabbed my hand tightly. "Just let it out. You're fine." He reassured with a failure of a comforting smile.

"I am _Princess_ Emilia!" I yelled, my face aflame.

I whipped out my own fan and hid my lower face as I gazed down at Amber dangerously. So much for not being ordered around, eh?

"What in the heavens is going on here?" A thin figure asked in a low tone as he wandered into the room. The purple robe suited him.

"Hello Cedric."

"Hello Emilia." He answered routinely as he looked about the room, not paying much mind to his surroundings. I smiled like a child on Wassailia behind my fan.

He violently jerked his head back to look at me, his voice cracking as his eyes flew wide. "Emilia?!"

"Time has not been kind to you, dear." I folded my fan cockily and dropped my arm down to my side. "You look like a tired old man. Are you senile yet?" I mocked as his jaw dropped.

I frowned at the gesture. "Or a fish?"

I dropped my fan into my pocket as soon as he had wandered near enough and launched myself at him. "It's great to see that Roland hasn't fired you yet."

"Yeah yeah. Mock the old wizard. Why don't cha." He grumbled.

I laughed as he nearly tumbled over as our bodies clashed.

"You aren't as little as you used to be!" He wheezed as he righted us and released me.

"But you certainly are." I mocked at his thinness. "So, how have you been, is the evil—?" A hand was slapped over my mouth.

"Evil exorcizing been, she means." He looked at me in the act and lightly reprimanded me with his tone. "You can't go around giving people the wrong idea.

I smiled cheekily behind his hand— he felt it against his palm, I know it— and nodded seriously.

He rolled his eyes as he released his control over my mouth.

It sure has been a while.

* * *

 **Later that night…**

"She sure seems close to Cedric." Miranda remarked as she brushed her hair at the vanity. In the mirror, she could see Roland sitting upon their bed with scroll in hand. He was probably reviewing tomorrow's plans.

"Ah, they were always closer as kids, mostly considering the age gap between the two of them being smaller than ours." He recalled halfheartedly as he studied the paper in his lap.

"I have a sneaking suspicion that you're hiding something about your sister from me— from all of us, Rollie." She smiled as she noticed his stiffening form, and continued to brush her hair casually. "It almost seemed as though you were trying to keep her at a distance from us during the first meeting and during dinner. I wonder why?" She inquisited cleverly.

Roland tensed, took a breath, and then set his scroll to the bedside before sitting up completely and staring at his wife's reflection in the mirror. His gaze was intense, as if debating whether or not it was wise to disclose the information Queen Miranda knew would spill this night.

"It's not like I have anyone to go tell." She added cheekily. "Anyway, wouldn't it be handy to have someone else aware of your situation in case something goes amiss. I do think you need a lady's opinion in this case. You and Cedric are not exactly experts on affairs of the heart. Especially a woman's." She finished pointedly, leaving no room for her husband to argue the decision.

He sighed, looked at his wife with a smoldering gaze, and then let his eyes drift to his hands as he began his tale.

"I warn you now, it's a sad story of nearly 24 years packed together in a bit of a scrambled mess. And it revolves around that girl's life." He paused, not wanting to continue unless his wife's heart was really into it. Despite her confusion at the distant way in which he addressed his own sister's tale, it was obvious that she was. "Duly noted it really isn't my tale to tell and I don't really know all of it, but I see it desirable for you to know a little more of my childhood along with this. I will start with a single statement: I was not a good person."

The Queen's face scrunched up in a bit of distorted resentment at this. "However I may have not have known you then, I know you now and you are the greatest kind of person." She reassured him firmly. _Now continue._ She said with her eyes as she rested a hand on his own. She was now at his side and her attention was completely his.

"I was spoiled by my mother and the servants due to my father's commitment to his kingdom instead of his family. Tilly and I both were. But when it came down to some important meeting that the entire family was required to attend… I'll admit, I didn't act the part of a respectable young man." Roland scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Or future king." He paused for a long while, but Miranda did not press or rush him, it was evident that this was the ultimate struggle of his youth.

"Enraged, my father deemed our youngest sibling, who was still in the womb of our mother, the next head of the family. The next ruler of Enchancia. But he feared her coming up to be like myself and my eldest sister. Wild. Adventurous. Free. So he called upon a dark sorcerer and demanded an impenetrable curse to be placed upon her. Though, at the time, I believe he called it her _blessing_. The sorcerer agreed, but to certain degrees with certain payments included." He stopped, as if debating with himself.

"Go on!" Queen Miranda squirmed in her seat, the anticipation's effect evident in her being.

"Well, the unborn child was cursed to forever obey commands given to her. _The Gift of Obedience_ , if I remember correctly. And she was born. As adventurous, wild, and free-spirited as his other children— if not more so— King Roland the First decided to take his own hand at raising her. She was crying endlessly for months. She attempted to flee thousands of times. She rebelled and screamed. All the while, Tilly and I fled to the opposite ends of the castle. I wanted to forget about my younger sibling, and I pretty much succeeded. Tilly wanted to intervene, being much more mature and braver than I, but mother always gave her valid justifications as to not go against our father's wishes." King Roland looked extremely miffed at the thoughts, almost as if the disturbances that still haunted his dreams became real once again. "As if fated, our father died the day after my coronation. Don't get me wrong, he was a great king. In fact, he was one of the greatest. He kept the villagers well fed and was constantly renovating the town to match the people's tastes and needs. But he was not well suited to raising a child. Because he was a king, his fist had too much control within its grasp. He was too controlling with his family as well. Or he tried to be. And, the day after I became king and our father had died of old age, Emilia was nine. Still much too young to rule. But the perfect age for our father's influence to be held over her. She was rounded out by the curse and our father's words which had forever limited her capabilities. "Don't ever"'s had already filled her que and she was almost too far gone. Her eyes… her _eyes_." Roland buried his face into his hands in despair. "I've never seen eyes such as those. So dead. Emotionless. Lifeless. They were horrific. So, not having much else to do, I tried to get along with her. But she was like a pebble that had once been a great rock on a riverside. She was rubbed down, too many parts of her gone. Too smooth, no character left to define her. She was raw." King Roland hadn't looked so perplexed and horrified in all of the time that Miranda had known him. Emilia wasn't the only thing that was raw, it seemed Miranda's husband was indeed still sore to the subject as well.

"So. I did the only thing I could. I sent her away. Not out of the castle of course, the curse would choke and hang her with her own hair if I had done that. And she was still my sister after all. I couldn't possibly do something so cruel." He looked at Miranda's face tenderly. "I sent her to the only place I could even think of without there being much danger. I sent her to our sorcerer. Of course, at that time, Cedric's father was the palace sorcerer. Goodwin the Great. He was rather old at this point and well into the training of his apprentice, aka his son. And I assigned them the task of erasing the curse. Which, as you can tell, didn't happen. The curse is unbreakable, as Goodwin finally told me before he left for Mystic Meadows." He looked away and pursed his lips to the side. "I would say that that's the end of the story. But there's a little more that I regretfully need to tell you. When I gave her up to the royal sorcerer, I also ordered something from her, exploiting the curse for my own image. I commanded that she stay out of sight of me and the guests of the castle."

Queen Miranda gasped at this, her expression heavily livid at her husband.

"I know. It was appalling of me. But I had my father's reputation to uphold and to reach up to. Or so I thought. So I merely caught glimpses of her in the castle when she wasn't aware. Regretful of my brash command almost every day that I saw her blossom with some other characteristic. I mentioned this to Goodwin but he merely was able to get her into my presence with extreme formalities. It was the only way to work around the curse of my demand. He told me that the curse slips away with time slightly, and only if her own willpower increases as well. So I gave her the option of leaving the castle for her sixteenth birthday. She leapt at the chance. So I sent her away with a guide, who she managed to ditch at some point. And I haven't seen her since then." He laughed awkwardly. "That is. Until now." He didn't mention the reports from Tilly and how it seemed their dear younger sibling found herself in a new location every other month, he feared that would just unnecessarily bring his wife's wrath upon himself at his carelessness.

His wife stared at him, a mix of emotions showing on her deeply engraved features. The one Roland saw as the most prominent was the one that was of anger. She raised her hand up and, in what looked like preparation to a slap, was really just her stretching before jerking her finger into her husband's chest, instantly raving in on him about his wrongs.

He accepted it. He knew he deserved every bit of it.

But there was a deeply engraved sadness also in her tone, one that held her back from expressing any true anger.

He was an awful brother.

But he was going to change their relationship, he promised— after all, it _was_ why he _actually_ invited her to his home in the first place.

But how to do it was the real question.

* * *

 **Bounce back to earlier that day…**

After the Castle Steward, Baileywick as I've come to learn, stole my brother and his wife away in "urgent business" and I had released Cedric in threats— I mean, _promises—_ to pester—Ehem! _Visit_ him up in his lair later, I stared at the children, blinking every so often in the stilled silence.

"So…" I began very unladylike. "What does King Roland allow you guys to do around here?" I began, toning down the complex diction quite a bit and praying no more outbursts would happen. _Dang it! Why did Cedric leave? What if I'm made to do something crazy?!_

James shrugged good-naturedly and I'll admit, I completely saw Roland in the gesture. "Anything we want really. Just… No breaking things."

I bit my tongue against the impromptu of such lose rules. And I _sooo_ wanted to scream at my brother in that moment. "What do you guys usually do?" I asked again, trying to engage in a somewhat decent conversation.

Amber this time gave movement, directing my eye as she whipped her fan in front of her face overzealously. I was slightly miffed at the children and their freed actions. This is what it must have been like for my older siblings as well when they were growing up. "Well, we each break off into our own little thing and it usually somehow all clashes together in a big mess." Amber began with a bit of disdain in her brow. Disdain that, oddly enough, wasn't really directed at her words as they were at me in general. "I'm usually admiring some piece of art in the castle, Sofia usually plays with her animal friends or is dancing around with the servants, and James usually has something to do with whatever is newly broken around the castle." She made it sound as if she were the only proper one in the entire castle. I was sure she was just exaggerating and that the other two were about to voice their disagreement.

But, upon glancing at their small forms, I saw no argument in her tales. It was as if that's really what they did all day. For all I know, it might just be.

"Alright then." I denuded myself of any pretenses that I would usually have prepared. "Who wants to drag me along in their usual activities? I'm at the castle, nothing can be much worse than this." I mumbled the last part as they all shared looks.

"We can go visit Mr. Cee-dric if you want." Sofia finally concluded from the nonsensical stares of her siblings.

I nearly snorted at the mispronunciation of his name. Oh this is rich, I'm sure these kids drive him crazy. "I'm up for that." I smiled politely as Amber spun on her heel and James followed. Their noses upturned snobbishly. Sofia gave the two of them a confused look before turning to me and offering me her hand.

I looked at her a moment longer than necessary, faintly recognizing her gesture as one from my childhood, and reached out, gently taking her much smaller hand.

I was slightly moved at her kindness.

"Are you two coming or not?" James called with a hand to his mouth, the door to Cedric's tower wide open. I noticed his dark brow knitted in the middle.

Something was bothering him.

"Hurry up!" He added brutishly.

I ground my teeth as my body relinquished control to the little boy.

I was going to have to get out of here soon.

I don't know how much more of this I can take.

* * *

Knocking on the big wooden door, the kids stood at attention in front of it while I curiously lifted the jaded gargoyle's finger. Indeed, Cedric still uses the little compartment it seems— even despite the fact that nearly everyone already knows of it. Perhaps Roland has forgotten? Or maybe he just doesn't care anymore?

"Yes yes, what is it—?" Cedric stopped his rant abruptly and stepped back from the door to take in the lot of us with a bit of surprise in his widened eyes. I could tell he wasn't pleased with the company. I would have to ask about that later. "Whoo… There sure are a lot of princesses at my door today." He looked down at them and then up to me in question. I shrugged, my mirth at the visit died down at his disappointment in seeing us.

"I am _not_ a princess." James argued before another word could slip past his lips.

"Well of course." Cedric agreed numbly.

"What're you doing in here that you're distracting us from?" I leaned around the doorframe to peer in suspiciously, a small teasing smile on my face. "Goodness me. This place is creepy. I almost forgot what it looked like." I leered at him.

Cedric rolled his eyes and attempted to close the door at seeing the pointlessness in our visit. Not wanting to cause any type of misgivings, I slid my foot away from its natural response of stopping the door open. I was back in the castle after all, etiquette is a _must_. There was a loud slam as the door slid in place and a few clicks as it was locked securely.

"See you later then?" I called out innocently on the other side of the door. There was little response other than a quiet grumble.

"So you and Mr. Cee-dric are close?" Sofia asked me.

"As close as they get I suppose." I shrugged and turned around to descend the steps once again.

"That's a very vague answer." Amber bit out begrudgingly. "Like all of your other answers as well." She muttered coldly.

I chose to ignore the second part, for any retaliation would result in encouraging such unladylike behaviors such as mumbling. "I suppose it is."

We exited the stairwell and, deciding that I was not a royal brat kind of person, excused myself to my room. Knowing where my old room was located, I wandered my way to it. Either my bag had been put in there or the guest room; in some way, I guess it will also help me define my current position in the castle. If it's in my old room, Roland is up to some usual mischief. But, if it's in the guest room, it means everything is clear that I really am only here to visit the new family members and then resume my favorite kind of life, the secluded kind. Don't ask for my logic, that's just the way it goes in my mind.

A prettily uniformed maid stood at a doorway, tediously inching my bag into the room as if it weighed a ton. I added a little skip in my step to hurry and get to her side.

We were in front of my old room, might I add.

"Oh!" I reached out and picked up the bag simply with none of the strain that she was exhibiting. "I've got it. I know my things can be a little heavy."

"No, no Ma'am. I'm sure I can get it in there. I got it this far after all without incident." She looked at me holding the bag and her eyes gradually widened to that of serving saucers. "Or you can do it fine." She mumbled with a lack of breath.

"And thank you for that. But I've got it from here." I dipped my head into a shallow curtsey. No, I was not supposed to curtsey to a maid but she was doing her job properly and I had to respect that.

"Well, then, if you don't need anything else I'll be going." She dazedly added.

I smiled at her dumbfounded self. She bowed lowly, making sure to get her head lower than mine had gotten. I allowed my features to morph into that of slight astonishment. I was impressed. You don't see many today who know what the procedure is when a princess bows her head to you.

Maybe Roland is doing a good job after all.

* * *

 **So. Here it is.**

 **The start of the idea that has been plaguing my mind for quite some time.**

 **I accidentally came across Sofia the First one morning and its been attacking my brain ever since. So I did something about it! Please let this have come out alright.**

 **Until next time!**


	2. Dear Violet, Don't Touch My Trousers

**Dear Violet, Don't Touch My Trousers**

* * *

Violet raced down the hall in a rush to get back to her other tasks. When, suddenly, she rounded the corner and her arm was grabbed. She was pulled into the shadows abruptly, letting out nothing more than a squeak before seeing her captor and composing herself a bit better.

"King Rolan—!" She began in her surprise at the man.

Said King slapped a hand to her mouth and began in a low whisper after checking to see if anyone had heard. "You are in charge of Emilia's room correct?" She nodded, her lips sealed despite his hand being long removed. "Well, I'm assigning you another task that goes with that. And it has a lot to do with her wardrobe."

"What do you have in mind your Highness?" She whispered back, also checking her surroundings before leaning in to contribute to the plotting of her employer.

"My sister's attire may look fine now. But in that bag of hers she has a pair of trousers— if not many pairs. I need you to get them to me."

"But why would you need them?" She knew she wasn't supposed to question the King's order, but she couldn't help it. "I mean, of course I'll do it. But, why?"

"I need to break her out of her shell," He elaborated, not minding the slip in her etiquette considering his conspiring wasn't exactly in protocol either. "And she's never been one much for fancy dresses." He smiled with a clever glint in his eye. "I want to see her fight for them."

Violet wasn't sure she got it. Boys' logic she supposed it was. But she nodded her head in agreeance despite the minor issue of not understanding whatsoever.

One thing she knew for sure, however, is that the Queen most definitely had no idea about any of this.

She'd surely stop her husband if she did.

* * *

I threw my bag onto the bed and walked towards the window, drawing its curtain closed instantly. It was much too bright for my liking, and it was getting hot. I welcomed the dimmed room with a reserved smile and glanced at the untouched furniture nostalgically.

I suddenly wanted to retch.

The smile died on my face and the awe of the moment vanished instantaneously. I moved towards my bag and clicked the locks open, my clothes and materials springing from the cramped compartment and spilling onto the bed.

I scanned the room briefly for the drawers. Upon spotting them, I grabbed the entirety of my clothes in one armload and clumsily made my way over to the dresser. I used the heel of my boot to pry the drawer open and deposited the clump of laundry into it unceremoniously.

May I go ahead and announce that, in that moment in time, I was wearing the only dress I owned that was suitable for my title, or even remotely acceptable for that matter. It consisted of a deflated blue skirt and a layered bodice. It was mainly a frosted blue with darker blue accents along the seams of the jacket. The sleeves retreated from my wrists to my elbows and gloves covered the remainder of my arms. A weak excuse of a tiara rested upon my tightly wound up locks and a small locket adorned my exposed neck. _It's all in the details_ , as an old friend of mine used to say.

It was a ridiculously amazing transformation from my usual, casual self. Yet, it was only considered lazy-wear here in the castle. I can't imagine getting anymore dressed up than I already am yet there are so many more possibilities. Mother would be positively angered if she saw that I wasn't even wearing a full corset. I laughed lightly as I saw my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were dull to put it simply, there wasn't the wild gleam that both of my siblings have and no expression I made actually made it to the blue orbs.

I grabbed the tiara in my fist, ripped it out of my hair and tossed it to the dressers side. I slid off my stockings and shoes and roughly shredded my gloves off. I flopped backwards onto the bed after I dismissed the suitcase of its placement there. And put my hand to my face, watching it carefully. Each twitch, each crevice.

Did you know once a woman reaches 18 she is not supposed to show either of her hands to anyone but her husband? Surely, the custom has been dropped, for it had only been upheld in castles for the last century. But even in castles it has seemed to boil down to the woman's choice as to if she wants to hide her skin or not.

That led my thoughts back to my father and his insistence on customs, which I quickly shot those memories down and instead thought of his predecessor. King Roland. My brother. He gave me my own room. The room of my childhood.

It's official, he's up to something.

Not only is he intending to acquaintance me to his new family, he's intending to do something big involving my presence. He knows I'm required to uphold a proper face, if not mentally, then physically. I can't openly express myself in this castle and he _knows_ this. So what is he plotting?

I dropped my hand and allowed it to slap my face. It stung but it woke me up. Its intended purpose. I sat up and raked my fingers thought my hair, rashly tearing pins out and sprinkling them upon the bedspread. My thick blonde locks pooled around my hips and weighted my head down.

"It's about time for a haircut." I mumbled as I grasped the ends and pulled them to my face, studying how damaged they were. The white-blonde locks are definitely my most eye-catching feature, always earned me my attention from potential suitors, not that I gave any of them even a sliver of a chance.

I was young when they first began pouring in— half of them being a decade older than I. Ergo, I toyed with words and offended many of them into never returning for a second date. It totally cracked Roland and Tilly up. Cedric encouraged my smart mouth with his own snarky remarks, so you could say that we practiced on each other. But, as you should know, the moment our father died, the suitors stopped appearing. Either Roland stopped inviting and started turning them down, or father was _making_ them come with his master manipulation skills when he was still alive. Though either is possible, I highly suspect the latter.

Which is why I always wind my hair up tight and out of sight using other means to distract: it gathers too much attention when it's down and in its full glory.

I stood up and glided on the pads of my feet to the full-body mirror, gently taking myself in. I looked ever the wild child like this. I smiled and this time it reached my eyes. With no one to give me any commands when I'm alone, and the strange fact that none of the commands seem to affect me when I'm alone, I was actually happy.

Does this explain why I'm a bit antisocial, _especially by_ _choice_?

I sure hope so.

I allowed myself to shrink and hide in the thick locks that were down. It's embarrassing to have to put on such a serious face when I'm surrounded by family. Completely and utterly embarrassing. I swallowed hard as I uncrossed my arms and wrapped my fingers in my hair, winding it up once again into its condensed form. It's proper form.

I patted out my dress and slid on my stockings and shoes. I searched with my eyes and spotted the object of my _fascination_ , my tiara. I picked it up and looked between it and my reflection for a while. The light in my eyes, the mirth I held, faded and was slowly overcome by that jaded sensation. I slid the tiara back in place, replaced my gloves, smoothed them out, and left the room swiftly.

I had spent hours alone in my thoughts and now it was dinner time. See what I meant when I said being alone is best?

I sighed wearily. Time to put back on the stone mask.

It's not like I have any other choice.

As I made to turn into the major hallway, little did I notice a small figure slinking into my room.

Nor did I know that my favorite apparels were in danger.

* * *

Arriving at the dining room was no small feat for Emilia. Yes, she had lived in the castle as a child, but that was a past life for her and what perhaps frustrated her more was when she thought for sure that it was just around the bend… only to find herself outside some other room entirely.

After a while of being in denial, she growled in frustration before erupting. "I'm _lost_ in my own castle!" She roared and cursed thinking no one was around to hear her foul language.

Suddenly there was booming laughter and a frozen Emilia as her face went aflame.

"Emilia!" The older man laughed. "It's great to see you in good spirits. And, now that I think about it, it's good to see you all together!"

"Constable!" Emilia grasped her heart and she spun on her heel to face said man. "Shouldn't you know better than to lurk in the shadows!?"

Constable Myles shrugged. "Call it lurking if you wish but it was more like following to see where you were going. Stalking, now that's a better word for it I believe, don't you agree?"

"No." She answered plainly. "I don't."

Constable laughed again.

"Well?" The princess crossed her arms and tapped her foot petulantly. "Are you going to stand there and keel over all day or are you going to point me in the right direction?"

"You sure have developed a nasty attitude." He remarked with an amused smile. "You passed it on the last hallway."

Emilia felt her brow tick. Of course she did. "Thank you." She huffed lightly and scurried away.

Constable chuckled and, with a skip in his step, continued on his way.

* * *

Finding the dining hall after that was a bit simpler, though I was much more thorough in my search behind every single door.

Then I saw a long table and my sister-in-law chatting with Baileywick. I wasn't late. But I'm sure I wasn't early either.

Deciding that peeping was cramping my style, I slid smoothly and silently into the room, meandering down to where the two stood and awaited my turn.

"…Sofia was out in the gardens the last time I saw her. Princess Amber is on her way, just changing into her dinning gown. And Prince James told me to come and get him at the last possible moment." Baileywick explained matter-of-factly to Miranda.

Suddenly there was a joyous sigh and a closing of another door. I peered around the two counterparts and saw Roland walking out of the kitchen patting his stomach. I smiled lightly and wandered a bit closer to him.

"Get into that jiggly wiggly pudding already?" I asked, barely containing my patronizing smile.

"Indeed. And boy, are we in for a treat tonight for dinner." He sighed contently.

Baileywick and Miranda broke apart, each heading off into different directions looking as if they were going on a serious mission. I pointed and looked at my brother. "What are they doin—?"

"They are going to hunt down the kids. Dinner time." He added to his interruption, tapping his imaginative wristwatch.

"Ah." I acknowledged aloofly.

After a long, agonizing— to him— silence, Roland spoke. "Find your room to your standards?"

I snorted. "What kind of question is that? It _is_ my room. Why wouldn't I?"

"You are quite a bit older than you were when you got off." He elaborated, sounding ever the serious king.

"Hm, I suppose." Was my halfhearted response.

"Dad! Tomorrow is flying derby tryout practice!" James came running in, a helmet perched upon his head.

I squinted in thought, wasn't that—?

"Really? That's awesome! So you're going to go?" Roland asked as he took his son's helmet and set it on the edge of the table, where a servant soon arrived and took it back to wherever it belonged.

"We are all planning to attend. I'm going to go cheer on Prince Hugo!" Amber added as she entered with her fan fluttering haughtily.

Sounds like your everyday derby practice.

Sofia was watching the pair excitedly. Apparently the concept of flying derby was fascinating to her. But that look on her face. It was more than simple fascination, it was almost… longing? To race?

I furrowed my brow as I watched the three kids fight for their father's attention all with the same topic of racing in mind.

This was going to be an eventful dinner.

* * *

 _Watching Roland ride precariously was unamusing for me. He kept flying off and landing in a pile on the hay stacks below._

 _Tilly was in the stables cleaning up the horse stables and feeding the remaining horses. So I was stuck by my father's side in the sidelines._

 _I had been holding my breath and remaining as still as I could, wisely avoiding being commanded to sit still and being restrained there for the rest of the afternoon._

 _As soon as Roland made his way to the tower, climbing it for the hundredth time, I saw the horse's expression change from despairing to confident and I knew it at that moment._

 _He would make it over._

 _So I readied myself._

 _The moment he made it over and through the bell tower, ringing the bell crudely and victoriously, I slid out of my seat and crept to hide at its side. The cheering crowd below and the draw Father had to bring his hands together in applause allowed enough distraction for this abrupt movement._

 _Mother saw me creep from my place. But I knew she pitied me almost as much as the castle staff did, so there was no doubt in my mind that she would keep her lips sealed at my escape. I didn't even bother looking her way as I watched Father intensely, searching for any hints as to his seeing my retreat._

 _His firm gaze watched Roland expectantly. He knew his son was trying to prove himself worthy of the crown. And Roland the First was never one to not give someone a chance._

 _I smiled impishly and scurried through the curtain as fast as I could push my little legs._

 _Making my way around the crowd and glancing up to the royal's box seats on many occasions, I knew better than to get cocky just because I thought myself in the clear._

 _If Father happened to turn and see my missing form… He'd surely spit out orders and commands like there's no tomorrow. Suddenly Roland fell from his horse again._

 _"Oh no! Father's gonna look down!" I whimpered as I reached out to steady myself._

 _My hand met the wood of the barn and an idea sparked in my young mind. I ducked inside and searched for Tilly. Seeing her on the opposite end of the stables. I ducked into a random stall and met a full-sized horse straight on._

 _I had to bite my tongue against the scream that wished to escape my lips._

 _Our faces were mere inches from one another as he paused in his meal to study me. I blinked curiously and a bit fearsome at the enormous beast before me. His deep black marbles stared at me as if they were looking into my soul. For all I knew, they just might be. Then they closed as he went back to his meal. He paid no mind to me. He belittled me! And then something snapped inside of me. My anger resided suddenly and I felt compelled to touch him._

 _I reached out my hand slowly and paused right before my fingertips reached his mane. I felt brash. This wasn't my place. I had no idea how to handle a horse._

 _Suddenly I leapt at the horse and wrapped my arms around its neck, tangling my fingers in his black mane and coddling it with my cheek._

 _Even the most amateur horse rider knew this was a big NO. You don't overpower a horse. You don't leap at one. You don't move abruptly when in the presence of one. Much less a horse that doesn't even know you._

 _Father would have gasped in horror._

 _"Seems to me that he likes you." I recoiled suddenly as I heard a familiar voice. I turned abruptly to see Tilly leaning over the rail, brush in hand. "How about I saddle him up and you take him out for a test run?"_

 _I was frozen in horror. Matilda. I was specifically kept away from her by Father._

 _But… she's so nice._

 _"B-but Father—" I began, my unused voice squeaking and cracking as I attempted to protest._

 _"Hm?" She looked at me curiously as she placed the heavy sadly on the majestic beauty's back. "I don't think he can do much to you while you're on this bad boy." She laughed as she patted the horse's rump softly._

 _I didn't understand her logic but I suddenly shut my mouth, unsure if I really wanted to rain on her happy parade. She smiled softly to herself as she worked and paid me no mind as she secured the ropes to the horse._

 _I watched her work in silent amazement._

 _"Alright. Here you go." She suddenly appeared at my side, studying me. "Can you ride in that?"_

 _I looked down at my dress and dress shoes. I suddenly felt mischievous. I pulled the tiara from my hair and threw it into the hay. "I'll be fine, just pass me a helmet." Tilly laughed and did as I asked._

 _She assisted me as I climbed onto the horses back and gave me the basic rundown of how to ride one and how to not fall off and how to fall off safely. I nodded firmly, storing her words away for later use._

 _I somehow felt like this big guy could handle me on his own._

 _Uhh… Perhaps I should listen to Matilda more carefully._

 _She opened the gate and led the horse out by his reins until we reached the door._

 _"Alright. From here on out you're on your own!" She smiled happily but I saw a bit of worry rise in her expression like bile as she saw Father and Mother leaning over the railing, watching us._

 _I didn't give her time to turn me back around and take me back to our parents as I gave a little kick._

 _And we were off._

 _I felt a bit insecure at first. But, upon seeing the course approaching fast, I tucked my body into the horse's back and used the reigns to guide him as he picked up speed. I ignored the boys also on horses as I flew by, a smile that had never been seen before overtaking my face. I flew through each obstacle as I had seen Roland do, and fail on a few occasions, smoothly._

 _And, before I knew it, I was at the top of the bell tower._

 _I reached out and rang the bell curtly as the horse continued and crossed the finish line._

 _"Whoa!" I said lowly as the horse tried to keep us going, and he landed heavily on the dirt below._

 _I felt my chest grow lighter and the burden of restriction lifting as the victory rang across my being._

 _But the celebration was short-lived at best as I was dragged off of the horse and set standing before Father, who was glowering down at me with such venom that I_ almost _regretted climbing out of my seat in the first place. Keyword being_ almost _._

 _There was a lot of silence as we all immediately climbed into the carriage. Tilly sent me an apologetic look. Roland stared at me with a strange expression that reappeared throughout the entirety of the ride. And Mother smiled at me weakly as she tried to sooth Father._

 _Father refused to look at me._

 _He was disappointed. Angry. And I was sure I was going to get it once we were in the privacy of our own home._

 _But the punishment never came._

 _The words never came._

 _And the resonating smack that would usually send me flying, the ever familiar pain across my cheek, was never delivered._

 _Father simply stormed off to his room, Mother trailing after his unreadable form worrisomely. Roland didn't look at me as he retreated to his own room as well._

 _But Tilly nudged my shoulder and smiled at me widely as we walked back to our rooms together, my tiara tightly clenched in her hands._

 _Was what I did good or bad?_

I later found out that I had made my brother look bad and that that was _unforgivable._

But I had also impressed my father.

That much was painfully evident.

The one thing I regret about the whole little expenditure, is that I never got to ride a flying horse again.

It was ordered as so.

* * *

Once we had all seated ourselves, I halfheartedly listened to the casual conversation, only filing away the bits that could possibly come up in a later conversation.

I shoveled the food into my mouth, pausing after each taste to listen to the conversation rolling around the table between each member of the family.

Then the topic of the derby came back up. I couldn't help but grind my teeth at the thought.

This time, however, Sofia began talking about wanting to do it as well. I nearly choked on my pudding. The scene that followed her words in my mind was all too familiar to one that occurred when I was but a child. I looked over at Roland to see how he was taking it. He looked surprised and undecided all rolled into one.

Sofia explained why she wanted to do it and Amber lectured her for it. Sofia didn't have an older sister like Tilly, that's for sure.

I noticed Roland wasn't really listening but was looking at James, who seemed undecided as well.

When Sofia attempted to defend her idea against Amber and no one batted an eyelash at her desire to do so, I glared at Roland, daring him to deny her simple desire. He wisely avoided my eyes.

And he didn't so look convinced on Sofia's side.

Suddenly, I felt my anger boil over and I was compelled to say something unabashed. I slammed my spoon to the table, my pudding jiggling in response to the forceful gesture. All eyes flew to me. I tried to scream, to yell, to shout, but was restrained to just clenching and unclenching my jaw in reflexive calming gestures.

"Emilia?" Roland asked as I ground my teeth.

"Just stop dancing around it. Let her do it." I said firmly, finally able to spit something out. "She has an older brother that's pretty good at it. She could just ask him for assistance if it gets too be too much for her. She's young so she still has time to develop her own image away yours." My voice was unwavering, but I was crying inside at how similar this situation was to my own.

Yet so very different at the same time.

"O-of course." Roland nodded assuredly. It was obvious that he saw the recognition in my own eyes at the situation. "I wouldn't want to hold my daughter from something she wants to do."

That was a cold awakening.

It was so obvious that he didn't mean for that last statement to come out like it did but I still felt the effect it held over me. "You said that on purpose." I muttered, my eyes widening in shock. "Just because you're trying to prove yourself to me. That you aren't him." I stood up and braced my hands on either side of my bowl my head hanging low and eyes hidden from view. "Well, you can stop with the façade right now. I won't have any of it. I'm going to have to excuse myself, Miranda, children." I allowed my bangs to cover my eyes as I trembled with nostalgia.

I hate this castle. I hate what it represents. What it holds.

I turned on my heel and pushed myself onwards as my shoes clicked on the stone floor in the shocked silence. It was painful to leave in the midst of shouting at my role model. But I couldn't have his pity. I won't be able to handle it if he keeps bringing up the past and trying to fix it. I know he's not my father. I know that he cares. The truth of it is that all of this is clearly evident.

I just want to move on. Make new ties with him. That's why I returned to the dreaded castle in the first place.

But I suspect that that is no longer possible.

My father's hand, even after he's long gone, still holds firmly to my heart.

And I suspect that I will never be able to break free.

 _I'm sorry Roland._

* * *

Roland wanted to call out to his sister to wait. But he knew that that would be too cruel, that that would push her over the edge at being commanded in such a crucial emotional state.

He knew it would sever the last straggling strings that still held them together.

He should have watched his words more carefully. He indeed wanted to prove that he wasn't his father, but he wanted to do so subtly. He wanted to edge into the subject and confirm the truths.

He wanted to fix the past before approaching the future.

If only he could see the truth of the matter.

If only he knew his sister better.

* * *

"What in the world?" I knew my closet was stacked with gowns my size galore. But there was no way I was actually planning on wearing them in the comforts of solitude. So I had brought my own casual wear.

So would someone please tell me why my drawer of trousers and tailored shirts was near empty?

I wanted to shriek in frustration. That maid— Violet was it— was the only one who had access to my room. That is, her, and Roland.

I wanted to throttle someone.

Roland's little stupid display and now this?

I ripped off my gloves and cracked my knuckles threateningly as I subconsciously shook my hair free of its restraints. My eyes glistened with mischief and a riled sort of anger. I couldn't help the small grin that crept across my lips. I slid off my heavy gown and changed into that of a much more relaxed one. Perhaps it was sleepwear, but it was late enough in the afternoon that my attire could be forgiven. I shed myself of the god-awful heels and reached under the dresser for my more casual flats. Perhaps these would be called slippers here.

Ignoring the strands of wavy blonde hair that attempted to hinder my vision, I allowed my evil gaze to darken as I thought up my next plan of action.

After ripping through the drawers and throwing ever other article of clothing behind me in my search for my pants, my growing angered mood had somehow morphed into that of a much more extreme form of spiritedness.

I didn't catch myself in the mirror as I pushed myself through the door that exited the room. I subconsciously knew that, if I happened to get the chance to take my wild form in, I would instantly feel the pull of the curse and be forced to become formal again.

I raggedly slammed the door and the bloodcurdling bang sent shivers of excitement throughout my body. The thought that this wasn't proper and respectful ran through my mind on more than one occasion, but I swallowed the vile doubt that attempted to rise in my throat.

Roland not understanding the intentions behind my visit is one thing. It's something that I can swallow my complaints about. But him tampering with my lifestyle was unforgivable and just enough to push me over the edge.

I felt the excitement and adrenaline pumping through my veins along with a raging flame of anger. I would have to make things clear once and for all.

I reached the royal suit and banged on the door, holding back a bit in fear of snapping the thin wood in half.

Miranda opened the door, surprise on her features and her brush in hand. I was forced to look up at her, her height being much greater than mine when I lacked heels.

"Yes?" She asked as politely as she could despite a rising sadness in her expression.

How odd, why would she be sad when— unless…

"Roland told you." I read, my voice barely more than a whisper as cold shock rang through my body.

"I beg your pardon?" Her brow scrunched up. "I didn't catch that."

"I need to speak to Roland… Is he in?" I shook myself from my stupor. It didn't matter right now if she knew or not.

She nodded firmly and turned to retreat a bit into their room. I strained my ears as I listened. "Rollie. Your sister is at the door and she wants to talk to you." Her intonation sounded angry with her husband and strongly urging for him to accept the invitation.

I heard some shuffles and scuffs inside before my brother's tall form overtook the door. He closed it behind him and moved into the hallway more. I struggled to control myself from lashing out the moment his face appeared.

"Listen, Emilia, about dinner—"

"Save it. I'm sure you have plenty of work to get back too, so I'll cut this short." I closed my eyes and took a deep calming breath before looking into his own orbs unwaveringly. "Listen carefully. I did not come to mend bonds. I don't think you understand that my past was not as painful as you're making it to be." I lied. But I couldn't have him tiptoeing around me anymore. Or being so worried for that matter. It's rather annoying. "I don't particularly care about what happened between me and Father and I don't see it as any of your business or responsibility to make up for something you had no hand in." I lied again. "I came today to make bonds with you and your new family. _Our_ new family. The past holds no meaning with me and I had hoped to move beyond it ten years later. I'm over it." I lied for the final time but lacking any significant emotions in my tone. "And you should be as well." I finished firmly.

"So what do you want me to do? Dance around the past? Forget about all those awful things I did to you?" Roland looked defeated.

"Don't ever wish to forget. For the memories make you who you are." My voice was soft as I looked at him, studying the sad desperation in his eyes. "And what awful things did you ever do to me? Sure you weren't exactly the most doting brother, but you weren't the enemy either. You never did anything to specifically hurt me." I blushed as I thought about the truth and misdirected my eyes once I decided to spell it out. "Honestly, I admired you. Your composure. Your ability to speak against Father. I was always looking up to you. I saw you as my true role model. I really liked your image and was sure that if I was in the picture that it would be soiled. So I didn't mind the shadows so much."

"Y-you admired me?" Roland's voice was quiet and his being overridden by blatant shock.

I weakly punched his arm. "D-don't only focus on that part!" I screeched as my face turned redder. There was a still silence and I looked back up to his face only to see a soft expression residing across his face as he watched me. I felt my embarrassment deflate to just a bit bashful as I once again stared into his eyes and spoke. "And I still do. But I can't very well watch you from a distance when I don't even live in the castle! So… I decided to make _some_ ties!" I forced out. "Stop pitying me." I whispered. "And let's just move on."

Suddenly I was smothered into a chest, arms wrapped around my back and intertwining into my hair, pulling me closer.

"I'm sorry I've made such an awful first impression after so many years. I'm always trying to be a great king and business man, but affairs of the heart aren't my strong point." He murmured into my ear.

I smiled as my eyes welled and wrapped my arms around his waist in turn. "It's alright, just don't make that mistake again."

After a few more moments of mushy hugging. I scowled.

He wasn't letting go.

I struggled out of his octopus-like grip and caught a glimpse of an impish smile. I felt myself slowly boil in anger as I remembered my other bone to pick with him.

"Another thing…" I trailed off, his leaving form surprising me. "Hold on! You're not even listening!" I shouted imprudently.

He disappeared altogether, killing my comical arousal in temper.

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped to one like that of a gaping fish.

Then he returned with folded fabrics in his hand. I watched them curiously as he neared. "I didn't expect this turn of events so my original plan is useless at this point. So here's your trousers back." He handed them off to my dumbfounded form. "I had a whole little foolproof plan set up but you went and did your own little thing and ruined that." He looked like a spoiled child that had been told no. "So there's no point now." And he turned and left.

I paused a few for more moments before angrily sputtering.

"HEY!"

* * *

 **So Roland has been settled with Emilia. Now it's either time to also settle her with some of the older characters as well or newly established with the younger family members and Miranda.**

 **I'm still deciding.**

 **Hope you like it!**


	3. Dear James, I'm Not What You Thought

**Dear James, I'm Not What You Thought**

* * *

I woke the next morning to the cacophony of birds chirping outside the window. A maid that, in my exhaustion, I faintly recognized as Violet stood in the window way, struggling to pull the maroon curtains all the way back out of the window's way.

I lazily watched her, my brain not quite awake yet. I rubbed my eyes against the light and took her welcoming look in. She had a small smile perched upon her lips and a happy tune escaped her thin figure quietly as she set the room back up. My searching frenzy from the previous night still evident in the mess. She didn't seem to mind picking up the fabrics that littered the floor so I didn't raise argument to her doing it and watched lethargically.

I sighed heavily before sitting up and allowing the blanket to pool at my lap. I scratched my head and realized, when I couldn't pull my hand away, how tangled my hair was.

"Miss?" Violet could barely hold back her laughter as I began tugging ferociously at my hand.

"Hold on a sec…" I tugged at different angles and as pugnaciously as I could. Until I suddenly realized that my other hand was stuck in the blonde mess as well. "Yeah. I'm stuck." I confirmed defeatedly, trying hard to ignore her giggles but failing in a bashful mess.

She reached the vanity, grabbed the brush, hair ties, and pins, and hurriedly made her way over to my bed, taking a seat behind me soon after to begin the tedious work that I required.

"Alright, just sit still." I grit my teeth and jerked slightly as my muscles clenched up in retaliation. "I'll have you all fixed up in a minute." She unknowingly finished as she began pecking at my arms and hair.

I growled, slightly repulsed by the sensation of the cold locking up of my body, but complied nonetheless. "Couldn't if I tried." I muttered tightly.

There were a few sparks of pain as she worked and a lot of numb tugging done on my end as I tried to remove my hands impatiently. When one was suddenly was released, I audibly relaxed. Violet kept tampering with my hair, brushing the other out soon after.

"While you're back there," I began jokingly, "Would you mind winding it up for me? Just get it out of sight."

I could tell that she was chagrined at the order. "Why hide it? You have such beautiful hair color and texture, why wouldn't you want to flaunt it?" She idly ran her fingers through the back and I shivered in slight pleasure at her appraisal. "Honestly, I think it even rivals Princess Amber's dazzling tresses."

"I wouldn't go that far." I laughed modestly. "But I will admit. It's gotten me my fair share of attention in the past."

"Then why hide it, Miss?" She asked again as she wound it up, as per my request.

I stood up as I felt her release and it stayed securely. "Because, I don't like that attention." I paused suddenly as I looked myself in the mirror. Did I just—?

I spun on my heel and managed to catch a glimpse of blue as she made her way into my closet. Moments later, she returned with multiple gowns folded over her arms. "I suppose that makes sense." She nodded as she seemed to be processing it. "Here are some gowns to choose from. If you don't like any of them I can make a second trip."

I made my way over to my vanity to scoop up my locket. "Just choose one that you like and I'll put it on." I told her as I fastened the locket and began searching for my gloves through the shallow drawers.

"B-but I couldn't!" She stammered nervously.

"Dear," I began, reminding myself that I was indeed a bit older than her. "I haven't lived in a castle for almost a decade. If I choose it's gonna be a pair of trousers and a dress shirt." I explained pointedly.

She looked heavily conflicted.

I laughed and waved her off. "Just choose the most moderate one possible." She still looked puzzled, so I added to the requiem. "And, another thing, I prefer to avoid the wire frames."

"Ah, w-well then…" She rummaged through her armload and held up a nice aquamarine dress. It had elbow sleeves and a deep V neck but it was a nice mediocre dress that I actually wouldn't mind wearing.

"Good choice." I nodded as I laid my gloves on the vanity and set the nearest tiara on top of them.

"I'll be right back." She said curtly as she wandered back into the closet. At first I thought she was just putting the other dresses back but when I saw them on the bed still, I had to rethink my conclusion.

I had just figured out that she had gone in to get the most dreaded regalia in a woman's closet when she suddenly popped back into place, a corset dangling from her fingers.

A _full_ corset.

I sighed heavily at the thought of putting that torture device on. But I held back any complaints. It was only just that I wear it while in a King's presence, as I had been told on many occasions as a child.

I took the death trap from Violet's fingers and told her that I could dress myself from here on out. She tried to argue but I sent her away with a wave of my hand.

I was still trying to come up with an excuse to not wear the corset as she was exiting the foyer to my room.

Wasn't there _something_ I could use to my defense?!

* * *

Thirty minutes later I walked out of my room fully clothed and more uncomfortable than I could ever imagine possible.

My breathing was restricted, I wasn't at ease, and I felt lightheaded. All because of this stupid corset.

I tried to scratch under the tight material and failed miserably, deflating visibly. I growled and then began spinning like a dog chasing his tail as I chased my own back.

After another fifteen minutes of dallying in the hallway, I decided that I would just have to get used to it and leave the castle soon if it bothers me that much.

So, with many grumbles, I made my way back to the dining hall. This time careful to not pass it and get lost again. I massaged my neck as I entered, my eyes closed as I worked out the kinks in my upper spine.

"Emilia!" Roland called excitedly. "I'd love it if you'd join us for breakfast."

I paused mid-step. Us?

My eyes snapped open and I realized that I was the last one to arrive in the hall, the kids were already digging in and sparing me sideways glances between each bite.

Upon observation, I deduced from the amount of uneaten food that I was only later than them by mere minutes. So I took my seat with a grateful smile to the service that was provided to me as soon as I had even touched my seat.

I stared across the table at Amber, quietly watching her adjust her tiara, pull her hair back, resettle her dress, take a bite, and repeat— not necessarily in that order.

After I realized that her eyes were intentionally avoiding mine, I looked to a pair of eyes that hadn't left me since I entered.

"And what, may I ask, is so fascinating about my face?" I asked said child with a bit of a teasing smile as they looked away, a bit flushed.

James looked up to see who I was addressing. He looked at his sisters and realized that the both of them were trying to figure out my addressor as well.

"Well it's just that you look more tranquil today." My brother defended his stare.

"Puh-leaase. You want to say something and you know it!" I accused, narrowing my brow.

"Yeah, but you don't have to be so mean about it!" He pouted, looking ever the child.

I sputtered out a chuckle. I slammed a hand to my face at the snort that escaped. My eyes went wide as I realized that everyone was watching us with a great deal of surprise.

That's when I died. I buried my face into my hands and began laughing so hard that even my hands couldn't contain them and broke free to the open air.

Roland was chuckling on his own end.

It was too much!

I fell out of my seat.

It seems as if we both remember that little _incident_.

* * *

 _"Dad." A younger Roland nudged his father. "Pst! DA-AD."_

 _Roland sighed and put his fork down. "What is it, son?" He asked without sparing a glance._

 _"She's_ watching _me!" He whispered harshly._

 _"What is she supposed to be doing then?"_

 _"Not watching me! That's for sure!"_

 _"Emilia. Look at your food."_

 _She followed the command abruptly and silently._

 _Roland felt the guilt hit him again as she shoveled another bite into her ever-silent mouth._

 _"I didn't mean—" He began._

 _"Then what_ did _you mean?" Their father sighed heavily as his son's pestering became merciless. "If she's bothering you that much tell her to leave!" He grumbled loudly, attempting to eat his food again. He was still a bit tired from the exchange he had had earlier this morning with his wife._

 _His son latched onto his arm, startling the food and splashing it into his facial hair._

 _Their mother and elder sister were out to town this morning enjoying the sights— and getting away from certain annoyances— and the three remaining members of the royal family sat at the head of a table, enjoying a quaint breakfast. The King was in his regular seat at the head and his two remaining children sat on either side._

 _Emilia, ordered at the beginning to follow her father's lead, jammed her spoon into her porridge and flung it at King Roland's face to follow his own mistakenly placed food._

 _It hit him square on._

 _The King froze in place. His fork poised in mid-air he allowed his eyes to drift to his daughter. He knew his mistake and didn't plan to hold it to her too much. Since, you know, they weren't really in any taut situations or meetings._

 _She knew that much and smiled a little bit._

 _Roland the Second, however, was looking between the two in horror. He only knew his father well enough to know him as a man of seriousness and business. But he managed to forget the fact that his father was also a man of impeccable reasoning with as much strictness as kindness._

 _Their father slowly turned his head to the little four year old and slowly pursed his lips, his brow narrowing dangerously._

 _The son cringed, ready for the beating, the yelling,_ anything.

 _But it never came._

 _Instead there was a squirting sound and, when he opened his eyes, his little sister was covered in the milk their father had previously been drinking._

 _"Did you just—?" Roland began in shock._

 _Emilia squealed in disgusted pleasure and broke out into a fit of laughter._

 _Roland had never seen his sister laugh. Nor would he get the pleasure very often in the future._

 _King Roland smiled pleasantly at his revenge and continued his meal._

 _The four year old, not quite sure if she should continue this battle, looked between her still messied father and her perfectly clean brother. She wrenched her hand into her eggs and tossed them at her dear older brother with darling laughter._

 _Her father laughed too as the prince grunted in surprised disgust._

 _Then it was a full on war._

* * *

"A-and t-then Mother got home and refused to even _step foot_ in the dining hall for days!" Roland choked out as he laughed.

"It was the first time I saw Father actually have fun!" I gurgled out in my unceasing giggles.

We were both on the ground in fits of laughter.

Then we sighed as we laid next to each other on the ground. "There were a few good points to my endless hours with Father." I told him with a pensive sigh.

"I know. I had some of my own as well."

"Mhm. _Sure_ you did." I replied sarcastically as I sat up.

He followed my actions in succession. "What? I did!" He grabbed me in a headlock and I fought back in vain.

"What in the world are you two doing?" A familiar voice sounded as the owner peered over the table at us. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you were kids again. But you two never did wrestle this nicely."

"Constable!" Roland and I instantly moved away from each other and stood up. "What are you doing here?" Roland asked alone this time.

"And why do you keep catching me at my worst?" I asked weakly.

"Oh, you have bests?" Constable Miles laughed at his own joke and I sat down again wearily.

"Here we go." I sung defeatedly, my hand holding my jaw patiently as I rested my elbow on the table.

"And I heard elephants trumping through the room above my office and got curious as to what beasts had been released upon the castle." He looked good-naturedly between the now-seated Roland and I. "I now see it's two of the terrible threesome back to haunt me."

Roland I looked at each other, eyebrows raised as he went back into story.

"I remember the day you, Emilia, and the oldest one got into the stables during this one's practice." He shook his head in disbelief as he gestured to Roland. "I've never seen a woman ride a Pegasus so well! Sure caused a ruckus it did." He laughed as he seemed to drift back into his own mind.

I huffed and blew a strand of hair out of my face. I'll admit this and only this, I'm a bit bashful when the topic drifts to myself. Years of standing in the back did _nothing_ for my confidence or ability to stand as the topic of conversation.

Then I noticed the kids watching Constable as if his words were the most fascinating thing in the world.

He was still talking about how great I rode that horse.

"Constable!" I interrupted loudly, red erupting across my cheeks as I realized what was happening. "Don't you have some work to get back to?"

"Yes. Yes. I do indeed." He suddenly seemed to remember the boatload of reports he still had to file away and he quickly slipped his way out of the room. The kids watched his retreating form intently until he was completely out of sight. And, not a moment later, their attention was fully on me.

"W-what?" I demanded defiantly.

" _You_ rode derby horses?" James looked amazed and slightly doubtful.

"And you were _good_ at it?" Amber looked disgruntled.

Sofia just stared, sparkles of admiration in her eyes.

I frowned impassively. "I wasn't supposed to. And it was the only time I ever—"

"She was amazing! It intimidated even me! It may have been her first time on a horse but she made it all the way through the course before someone could even process that a little three-year-old was passing them with ease."

"I was eight." I deadpanned, correcting his story, but he still spoke over me. Not even acknowledging the fact that I had said anything.

"She made it to the top of the bell tower in a second! And she beat the record!"

"I was lighter than the other teens riding so my horse had it easy." I added monotonously, continuing in my meal.

Miranda laughed along with the kids as Roland continued to exaggerate and I dutifully corrected him on each account.

By the time the meal was over and it was time for school and kingly duties, I couldn't detach James from my hip. And his mouth was a never-dying engine that shot out question after question and, before I could even attempt to answer one, he'd begin his own tale of extreme stunts that went along with it.

"Alright, Kiddo." I pointed. "Carriage. Now." I ordered dryly.

"Aw. But I have so much to talk about!"

I smiled slightly at the adoration he held and caved somewhat. "I'll go to your practice this afternoon. Is that alright?"

"And you'll ride too?"

"Uhm…" I fiddled with my thumbs. My father's voice ricocheted against the walls of my brain, making me want to cringe. "I suppose we'll see how things play out."

 _Don't_ **ever** _climb onto another horse's saddle again. You hear me?_

He looked at me confusion evident in his ever-searching eyes.

I'm sure my expression was worrisome.

I put the mask back on momentarily and smiled politely at him.

He smiled just as weakly and turned his back to me as he climbed onto the carriage.

I smiled even larger as Sofia waved back to me brutishly. I feebly waved until they were well out of sight.

I dropped my hand. My smiled followed suite.

I don't understand kids.

Especially that one. He's too much like Roland for me to be sure of anything.

I suppose it's time for me to pay that visit to Cedric that I promised.

Visiting… Pestering… Threatened… Promised… I don't see the difference.

I smiled ominously.

* * *

 _Knock Knock Knock._

Pause.

Silence.

 _Knock Knock Knock._

Pause.

Then there was a loud clatter as if someone had suddenly jerked awake and all of their things had gone flying in the process. I smiled in amusement at the images that filed through my brain.

There was sounds of scrambling and scurrying as I waited patiently on the other side of the door for Cedric to clean up his newfound mess.

"Yes, yes. What is it?" He deadpanned exasperatedly as the door creaked open.

"Hey." I waved weakly, my eyes lighting up briefly, before dying as he closed the door again. "You old crab." I muttered along the lines with more meaningful curses included as I reached over and grabbed his key. I jammed it into the lock and turned it with a flick of the wrist. I then commenced with jiggling the heavy door open.

"Boy, you sho' do get a work out with this thing." I leaned against it heavily as I attempted to push it open again.

Cedric, through the crack in the door that I could see through, was sitting at his desk. His chin on his hand and his back to me in what looked like a sulky gesture.

"C'mon!" I managed to slide through the gap. "The least you could do is wave that lil wand of yours and give me _some_ assistance!"

He waved the wand above his head lazily and the door slammed closed behind me—making me jump out of my skin— before a click signaled that it was locked securely.

I waited for him to say or do anything and, when he didn't so much as look at me, I wandered over to the spare desk where a book laid open. A little black crow swooped at my head with a loud screech, trying to keep my drifting form away from the book it seemed. A guard dog? He let out a caw, making a reading (as I soon discovered) Cedric turn to look at the ruckus.

 _Wait… This might be a raven, not a crow_ , I hummed as I looked at the build carefully.

The black bird was clutched in my fingers, purring softly as I scratched his underbelly.

"Wormy?" He croaked as he looked between us.

"Oh he's fine." I threw the bird into the air lightly and he caught wind in his wings before circling back to his perch where he watched me with a twinkle in his eye. "And Wormy? As in Wormwood? Isn't that—?"

"As usual, you talk too much." He mumbled drearily as he flicked his scraped wand at me.

I caught the stick barely and, after a bit of fumbling around with it, I laid it at my side as I became infatuated with the book that lay open on his desk. The book I had been heading to before a certain bird decided to steal my attention.

"What are you looking at?" He asked with a scrunched up brow as he stood up and moved to look over my shoulder intently.

I nearly slammed the book closed on his nose as he leaned in too much. "Back up." I ordered sternly. His eyebrows flew up, concerned confusion taking over his being at my flip in attitude.

I used the finger I had marked the page with to open the book back and read the poem again, but this time aloud.

 _"With each deed perform, for better or worse, a power is granted, a blessing or curse."_ I recited with a flare of knowing in my intonation.

"Ah. That." Cedric sat back down and went back to the potion book on his desk, seemingly uninterested.

"How… odd."

"What now?"

"I believe Sofia wears the same necklace that's in this picture. Could it be a fraud…?" I let my gaze darken cockily as I gazed over at the tightly wound up sorcerer at his desk. "Or the real thing?" I let my voice get higher as I finished.

"And if it is?" He spun to look at me with a twisted smile.

I couldn't help my own dark grin. "It would aid a special someone I know in his quest for getting even." I sung misguidedly.

"It always bewitches me how well you put the pieces together so easily." He laughed halfheartedly. "You found my plot in mere minutes of being here yet everyone else still thinks of me as a submissive _pet_." He growled the last part lowly.

"Well, you're reliable companion _is_ a _pet rock_. You were always telling me how proud you were of yourself for that one. Your schemes can't be _that_ complex."

He scowled deeply. "Will you just drop that one already?" He nearly screeched.

I put my hands up in mock defeat. "Alright, alright. I'm done picking. Sorry Wormwood. I won't point it out again." Said bird ruffled his feathers perturbedly and then puffed his chest out and upturned his beak snobbishly. I smiled and shook my head, a small smile on my lips. I'd have to make that one up to him later. "But I don't know about this one, Cedric." My voice wavered warningly as I studied the poem. "This thing could cause its user some serious problems. I wish I could get my hands on it and just study it a bit. What effects is has on the wearer. I doubt that it's all-powerful. The price must be pretty hefty. Especially for whatever _you_ have in mind."

He huffed heavily and rolled his chair over to me. Standing at my side once he arrived and looking at the amulet longingly. I remembered that it wasn't really what he wanted.

I snorted. "Evil men need to be able to lie to themselves _at least_."

He raised an eyebrow at my statement and looked at me in disbelief. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I smiled secretly to myself as I wandered to the painting hanging high and mightily on the wall. "I didn't know you were a fan of art." I toyed. "A painting of your _parents_ no less."

"It livens up the place." He said routinely as he closed the book holding the details of the amulet and putting it back onto a shelf for later usage. It probably wasn't the wisest thing to leave out and open for the world to see.

"Ah hah. I think it ups the creepy factor of a lair in a tower." I mocked lightly, but I was still slightly serious.

"And I'm sure such a tower doesn't meet your standards," he bowed deeply, " _Princess Emilia_."

"Okay, painting is a touchy subject. Duly noted." I half whimpered to myself.

He grinned in content to my reaction and moved to the desk again. "Now that you're done prodding at my things, do you mind leaving—?"

"Or helping with whatever you're doing?" I offered up the option hopefully.

He sent me a sideways glance, his expression unreadable from my perspective. Then he smiled and went back to his book.

"Can you pass me the wugmort?"

I smiled largely and grabbed the bottle— no issues in finding it, the stuff was repulsive by any standards and can be smelt a mile away by a senseless dog— and sat on the bench at his side as I placed the jar on the table.

It was then that the ties were mended.

Surely Cedric could forgive my leaving without a trace?

I suppose I could have at least told him I was going in the first place.

The past is the past right?

* * *

"Hey," I yawned loudly as I rested my head on my folded arms. "How do I get along with the kids? They don't seem to like me very much."

Cedric looked at me pensively. "You want to get along with children? _Roland_ 's no less?"

I nodded in all seriousness.

"I find it a bit ironic at how great you are at dealing with animals yet you don't know the first thing about kids."

"They talk. A lot." I deadpanned as I began taking pins out of my hair, the tightness was beginning to bother me. The corset wasn't helping anything either. Might as well fix one at least.

Cedric watched me work as he paused with his own hands. "Point taken." He grimly remembered his own experiences with the children.

"So?" I looked at him as I pulled out the last tie.

"So what?"

"Help me! I'm serious!" I shoved his arm whiningly.

"Sometimes you act like a kid, you know that?" He grumbled. "And with how much you order me around I'm thankful I don't have your curse."

"Watch it." I warned sharply. "I don't pick at you about your father so leave mine out of it." I leered dangerously, daring him to say something else.

He sighed and tiredly rubbed his face. "Princess Sofia likes anyone and everyone—"

"Even you?" I asked curiously.

"Even me." He confirmed tersely.

"Continue." I egged on as I grabbed my pins and hair ties to make a nice little stack.

He paused and a thoughtful look crossed his expression. "Prince James is pretty laid back. Just talk about cannons or something any other boy would like and you've got him, hook, line, and sinker."

I laughed. "When did you become a fisher?"

"I know my terminology." He added with a short snort of his own. "As for Princess Amber… She doesn't really like _anyone_ at first. But I think you two are more similar than you think."

"Why do I feel like you're insulting me?"

He put his hands up to defend himself. "I didn't say anything. Just do things her way and you're on her good side."

"H-how about Miranda?" I asked a little less eagerly, my eyes fading away from his. That's one I really wanted to know.

He looked at me, his features softened and he put a hand to my head, ruffling the now down hair messily. "With your luck, she'll be doting on you in a week. She's a mother all the way down to the roots."

"She's not _that_ old." I defended as I pushed his hand off roughly, scowling at him as he paid no mind to the newly formed tangles.

"And neither are you." He responded shortly.

My expression dropped. I buried my face into my folded arms and groaned loudly.

There were clinks and clanks of glass bottles and metal containers as Cedric returned to his work.

"Emilia. If you dare fall asleep right here I'll turn you into a toad." Silence on both ends. "You hear me? I'm serious this time." He tried again.

I groaned weakly in response as my lids fell closed.

"Emilia… I'm warning you… Don't—"

Everything on my end went dark and silent.

* * *

 **Well, all I can really say is:**

 **...To Be Continued...**


	4. Dear Emilia, You Have No Idea

**Dear Emilia, You Have No Idea**

* * *

Cedric rested his chin on his palm and frowned deeply as he stared at the tired mess on his desk.

"She went and did it." He muttered irritably. "Wormy, what do you think? A frog or a toad?" He lifted his wand lazily and watched with a raised eyebrow as she shifted her arms. He sighed heavily and put the wand down on his desk with a loud clack.

He looked at his bird and watched him instead. "What did she do to you? You aren't even cawing in agreement to wicked fun."

"It's not like you would actually do anything." A white blob formed from the painting Emilia had previously taunted him for having.

"Believe me. If I could, I would have thrown it out a long time ago." He muttered in response to the imaginary her poking fun at it.

Goodwin stood in the middle of the room, looking around for good measure. "I remember the two of you were rather fond of each other for a while there."

"And we didn't get along at all for nearly as long as well." His son grumbled as he stood up and retrieved a threadbare blanket from the cupboard. He draped it over her shoulders, carelessly covering her head in the process.

"If you suffocate her I'm going to leave you to take all of the blame yourself." Goodwin warned.

"She's fine. She's full of hot air anyway."

The older wizard rolled his eyes at his son's immaturity.

"Well, what do you want?" Cedric asked begrudgingly.

"I heard from a little birdy that the Princess had returned and I had to see it for myself."

"Well, she's here." He agreed snappily. "Now what?"

"You know I still find it mind boggling with how comfortable you two are now with each other." Goodwin chuckled as his son's gaze sharpened. "I still remembered back when the little tyke was still despised by you." He frowned slightly. "What was your reasoning for it again? Wasn't it something like she's too loud? Or—?"

"Too honest." Cedric finished. "She said what she wanted. She rallied the words of others constantly and ridiculed openly. Still does."

"But only to you it seems." Goodwin laughed. "The manners the King forced upon her during his reign still have an impact everywhere else."

"It's no wonder why she always comes here to fall asleep." Cedric added.

"Indeed it's not." Goodwin smiled mischievously. "But it does seem to me that you have little complaint to her doing so. You've even altered your speech patterns around her so that you avoid activating the curse by even the smallest chance."

Cedric began stacking papers on his desk. "Not really. It just got annoying to have her complaining about it."

Goodwin smiled knowingly. Cedric refused to look at him as he shoved the papers into a book and slid the book onto a shelf among others.

"Well, I came to see the Princess again, but she's asleep." He paused, looking between the snoozing girl and his son trying to get the paper that was pinned by her elbow. "It seems as if I'll have to drop by again later and catch her awake."

"No you—!" Cedric began, turning to face his father with his arm extended exasperatedly, but stopped abruptly upon realizing that the wizard was no longer present.

"Don't."

* * *

 _The little girl that sat on the high stool turned to glance at the two older men working precariously._

 _The littler one was constantly on his toes and, whenever he was taking his turn with the potions or wands, he would get angry at his father's consistent prodding. The even littler girl had to agree, the elder's poking around when concentration was due was probably his only flaw when it came to magic. And it seemed to vex the younger magician greatly._

 _He was an apprentice or something of the like as she remembered them saying earlier on._

 _She sighed heavily as she turned back to the window and thought back to her horrific experience this morning. To put it briefly, she had been caught in the sights of Roland early that morning. Briefly frozen in fear, the metallic shiver that ran through her bones forced her to sprint to the nearest doorway and take a detour to her destination. She had ran all the way from her room to Goodwin's tower in fear. Running in terror so early in the morning can leave a lasting emotional and yet physical impact for the rest of the day for those who have never experienced it. Climbing to the upper veranda the instant she entered the lab, she hadn't come back down from the level ever since._

 _The littler one had looked up at her curiously when he receded from his bedroom to find her up in the rafters. But just narrowed his brow in satisfaction at the silence from her._

 _She didn't talk very much but, when she did, it somehow always made him mad._

 _When Goodwin walked out of his room he greeted her politely and she managed to tear her eyes away from the window long enough to stare him down aloofly albeit quite a bit awkwardly as well._

 _It was now noon, nearly four hours later, and she still hadn't said a word._

 _Usually she greeted them happily and then commenced with her own little tasks, adding a little comment every now and again when something unexpected happened. And there was always something, even if she caused it herself._

 _But she sat there for hours just staring broodingly between them and the window in rotating intervals._

 _Goodwin nudged his student with a knowing look._

 _Younger Cedric complained in a low whisper, a whisper that they all knew she could hear in the dead silence of the room._

 _The older sorcerer looked at his son scornfully._

 _Cedric stared back unwaveringly stubborn. Then caved._

 _He grabbed the pouch from the hook at the doorway, slid the rock he so adored into his pocket, and made his way up the little ladder._

 _Goodwin contemplated watching to make sure his son did as asked, watching just because he wanted to see how his son would do it, or dispersing his attention to another task to give them some space._

 _He bit his lip and he chose, surprisingly enough, the latter as he whipped out some potion bottles and oddly colored liquids from the nearest cabinet._

 _Cedric grouchily marched over to her perch upon the high stool, one that actually put him a little lower than her much smaller frame, and extended his hand._

 _"We need some more silver ladles and wugmort root from the garden." He said tersely, his expression slightly disdainful._

 _Little Emilia slowly let her gaze travel from the window to his hand and then to his face. Her expression went from hard to hesitant in a few seconds. She slowly reached out and let her fingertips touch his lightly, she suddenly recoiled at how warm they were, surprising him greatly, and then let her much littler hand take his._

 _Cedric's expression had formed that of one of shock at her timorousness. He felt his heart thump loudly as her little ice-cold fingers grasped his and her sadness transferred from palm to palm._

 _His hard expression and resentment of the little girl melted a little bit as he dragged her behind him, guiding her down the ladder and out the door, out of the carefully watching eyes of his father, who just blinked in dumbfounded confusion at what had just taken place._

 _"What in Merlin's name did I just witness?"_

* * *

 _"Cedric." He paid her low voice no mind, so she tried again. "You dropped something." She said a bit louder as she bent to pick it up._

 _He paused in his steps to turn and look back at the littlest princess inquisitively. When he saw the little stone in her fingers, his heart leapt at the sight. He reacted rashly and snatched it out of her observing fingers harshly._

 _"My robe must have a hole in its pocket." He muttered to no one in particular as he looked down at said coat._

 _"Is that your pet rock?" She asked blinking curiously as she crossed her hands in front of her lap in that obnoxious way that royals do._

 _He wanted to snap at her nosiness, but paused when he realized she was just making polite conversation. He hesitated and debated with the two ways in which he could react: harshly shoot her down, which was his favorite option, or humor her polite and possibly considerate attempt._

 _The former was hugely tempting._

 _"It is." He answered tersely as he turned his back to her and continued making his way to the gardens. A compromise of his options it seemed to be._

 _She skipped a little to match pace and walked alongside him craning her head around to continue the conversation. "What's its name?" She squeaked. Her eyes glistening with curious wonder._

 _Cedric cleared his throat awkwardly at her enamored expression before answering impulsively crude. "Not that it really matters what his name is…" He looked at her deflating expression, a small smile making its way to his lips. "But it's Wormwood."_

 _Princess Emilia's little brow scrunched up horrendously pensive and, for a moment, Cedric childishly thought that he had broken her brain. "Isn't that the plant_ _Artemisia… absinthium?" She tapped her chin as she stared off as if the book was plastered to the air directly in front of her. "A plant commonly used in medicine but can also be lethal in large quantities."_

 _Cedric paused and blinked in surprise, considering her terminology for a moment before replying. "Indeed I believe it is. How'd you know that?"_

 _Emilia smiled with pleasure and clasped her hands behind her back, straightening her posture with pride. "I do have studies of my own that I'm required to—" She stopped abruptly as she noticed a strange sensation. The sensation of being watched._

 _She spun on her heel and saw a blonde head peeking out and watching her and the teen she resided beside._

 _Her eyes went wide and Cedric grew alarmed at the amount of fear that seemed to strike her being. He spun on his heel as well, expecting to see some kind of beast watching them._

 _But he didn't._

 _Knowing something had to be there, he looked harder and spotted a head popping out from around a corner._

 _It was the Prince— KING._

 _He looked between the two and noticed that Emilia's breathing was getting out of control. "Emilia." He said lowly, shocking her attention back to him. Her eyes were wide and her breathing was picking up pace._

 _He looked back one last time and noticed the head had vanished._

 _That didn't mean her panic was._

 _He debated with himself one last time before remorsefully grabbing her shoulders and staring into her eyes with all seriousness, looking for the little girl he was just talking to. He stood firm before deciding that it wasn't going to happen naturally._

 _He slid out his wand and tapped his palm twice, making sure he knew what spell he was going to conduct and that he knew it well. Upon remembering the lesson specifically with his father. He waved the wand precisely and a bit awkwardly, muttering the words as best he could without looking at them directly in his spellbook._

 _A white smoky sensation clouded Emilia's vision briefly._

 _The little sorcerer pulled his wand away from her temple, spindly webs following carefully. He clutched Wormwood tightly in the fist down at his side. With one last glance at her fearful face, Cedric brought the tip of his wand to Wormwood, sealing up the memories for the day inside of him._

 _It was a difficult spell. It left him almost totally wiped of energy._

 _And he almost regretted it when she regained herself and went back to the way she was every other day._

 _Talkative. Reprimanding. Annoying._

 _But happy._

 _Cedric didn't completely understand the Princess's situation, he'd never bothered to ask his own father or anyone else for that matter. But this little taste of her fear was hypnotizing and made him dreadfully curious._

 _And so things were different from there on out._

* * *

Cedric allowed the thoughts to faze in and out of his conscious mind. Not bothering to banish them in his solitude.

He glanced back at the sleeping form across the room with a flick of his eyes.

Correction: His _near_ solitude.

He still didn't quite understand the purpose of his father's visit. If he had really wanted to _just_ see the princess again, he would have come earlier when she was still awake. He _can_ snoop if he wants to, Cedric can't really stop him.

Instead, he had come to deliver some kind of uneasiness to his son. Cedric wasn't quite sure what it was exactly that his father said that set him so on edge. But, whatever it was…

It worked.

He watched said girl mumble something and adjust again, knocking the blanket back a little and revealing the golden locks that overtook her head. He sighed as he stared at the familiar color and texture.

 _What in the world was she been doing those years out of the castle for her hair to still look so royally kempt?_ He wondered idly.

He yawned and slumped heavily on his hand. He lethargically glance up to the sill that she sat at so many years ago and saw that it was indeed getting late in the afternoon. Given another few hours and the sun would be completely gone.

They'd been hard at work all morning.

Magic does take its toll.

* * *

Cedric and Emilia jolted awake as the door to the lair slammed open, a little Roland looking figure protruding through the entrance angrily.

"Roland?" Emilia asked sleepily as she rubbed her eyes, wiping the sleep from them.

"I do believe that we are a quite a few decades past King Roland looking like _that_." Cedric deadpanned as he stretched and stood up, moving to Wormwood's little area to make sure the bird had a sufficient supply of food and water, he had no real idea how long they slept but he knew that it was getting later into the night as per the darkness from the window above.

He didn't quite register that Prince James was yelling and fussing at Princess Emilia until Wormwood squawked at him, complaining about the noise. He blinked absentmindedly at his companion before allowing his eyes to drift over to where the bird was glaring. He saw the Prince's mouth open largely and move fast enough that it seemed that he was talking loudly, or yelling. Cedric wasn't quite sure yet. The sorcerer finally blinked away the last traces of sleep and looked at the two royals before him, one angry and the other quiet and guiltily sitting up straight.

"—promised! I can't believe you didn't come! Sofia and I were waiting for you for the majority of the practice!" He boomed.

"I know. I'm sorry. I lost track of time." She submissively reassured him that she would go to tomorrow.

"No! Don't talk to me anymore!" He shouted and Cedric cringed at the tenseness and fear that lit up Emilia's being at the command.

James paid no mind as he spun on his heel and marched away without even closing the door.

 _No respect_ , the royal sorcerer clucked his tongue as he walked over and closed his door. He not only meant the fact that the boy had barged in and left without even respecting another's things, but the way he had spoken to his aunt!

That reminded him. Once the door was closed, Cedric looked back at the royal still remaining.

She was sitting on the stool, her body rigid and her eyes massive with shock. Her expression was locked onto the doorway that the boy had previously occupied.

He huffed a tired breath and clucked his tongue again as he moved to stand in front of the girl, leaning into the frozen and fearful face that belonged and observing her eyes carefully with a hand to his jaw.

It was almost as if they were kids again. Cedric smiled faintly at the familiarity of the situation.

He sometimes liked to wonder if Wormwood still held those memories of hers and if they were in his conscious mind, haunted his dreams and subconscious, or were just imprisoned in his body and had no impact whatsoever.

What he wouldn't do to ask the bird.

It's been years since he last cast the spell. He faintly remembered his father approving of it on certain occasions when the curse became too much for her and a particularly damaging command was given.

It's not like she was going to resent him for doing it. She wouldn't even remember.

Plus, it's not medically safe for her to recoil so much with fear of reality.

He waved his wand sharply and said the spell confidently, dragging the spindles of threads from her temple and sending them flying at Wormwood before the bird could even process what was happening. It was only from the last few seconds of the Prince's angry rant, enough for her to remember the boy's ferocious anger and enough to leave her with the important parts.

Cedric prided himself on getting better at the spell, at only removing selective bits and leaving a good proportion. Not erasing her whole day like the first time. Good Merlin, that would be awful. He would have to go through her taunting greetings all over again.

And the Wormwood and pet rock thing!? No thanks.

She looked at him and her shoulders relaxed. He was curious as to how she would take it now.

She laughed. "Whoops." And she sent him a twisted smile.

He couldn't help the breathy chuckle that escaped him and shook his head as he moved towards the stairs leading to his bedroom.

She stood up and strolled over to the door. "Thanks Cedric for today!" She shouted happily.

He smile a bit sadly.

"You have no idea."

* * *

 **Sorry for the wait! School has been _Hectic!_ Lawdy yes. I've been braindead for at least two weeks now. I miss summer greatly. This story would be pumping out faster that you could read it if it were summer, yes it would. **

**By the way, this chapter was not focused on Emilia this time around if you hadn't noticed and that's my reasoning for the title given. I absolutely loved it!** **Writing it was a blast, but it was hard getting some length. Ergo, this chapter is considerably short as compared to the previous chapters. I'll try to keep them longer from now on, but I'm still not sure how I'm going to do much of anything with school loading me down with busywork.**

 **Just bear with me and review, favorite, and/or follow.**

 **Btw, just pretend I put a Disclaimer in the first chapter. I always forget the disclaimer! I figure that it's obvious that I don't own Sofia the First or I would have included Emilia in at least one episode by now. A girl can only dream, right?**


	5. Dear Sofia, I Have a Choice to Make

**Dear Sofia, I Have a Choice to Make**

* * *

I didn't miss the funny stare I received from Wormwood as I exited the lair, the gleam of curiosity and mischievousness in his eyes telling me there was something going on that I wasn't aware of.

The natural response would be to wonder what Cedric had done to me— after all, I had been asleep in there for many hours— but I couldn't bring myself to be suspicious of the ridiculed man. He wouldn't do anything too devious without my at least being able to recognize it, right?

I shook off the immediate doubt and allowed my reasoning to follow a more logical path— I'm his only friend! Who would be stupid enough to make their _only_ friend mad? I will figure it out eventually, he's not smart enough to keep anything from me for too long. Never was, never will be.

I shrugged off the strange pull in my chest, the worry that had been nearly diminished suddenly grew to a suffocating intensity and placed a large lump in my throat. I swallowed all of my doubts in _my_ only friend and thought back to my encounter with Prince James.

He was livid with me.

But he doesn't seem like the type to just get mad over such little things. It feels more like he's the kind to get extremely disappointed and then sulks around until you cave or promise to make it up to him.

I wonder what happened today during practice. Did he brag about his aunt, who is some supposed pro rider, and then get laugh at for his _lies_? Did they doubt that he even had an aunt and was just a big fat liar altogether?

Or did it have something to do with Sofia wanting to ride and he was just getting defensive over his sister?

I will admit, I prefer the last one, it makes me feel as if history _isn't_ repeating itself.

I wonder if I should try to make it up to him by attending tomorrow— good idea or bad?

"Emilia!" A shrill voice called out to me and I ignored it at first, that is, until I heard the footsteps pummeling towards me. I paused and turned to look at the little girl running to catch up with me.

"Yes?" I smiled sweetly at the newest member of the family and watched flippantly as she nearly tumbled into my legs. "Sofia, what could it possibly be that has put you so out of sorts?" I laughed lightly at the little girl's clumsiness.

"I was wondering why you didn't come to dinner!" She smiled up at me, her eyes twinkling happily.

"Oh, I just happened to fall asleep earlier… and missed a lot of events this afternoon…" I excused timidly as I crouched to her eye level.

"Well, James was really upset that you didn't come." Her eyes suddenly went wide and she glanced around suspiciously. "Don't tell him I said that. I wasn't supposed to tell you."

"My lips are sealed… But…" I hesitated.

"What is it?"

"Why? Why would he want me to go in the first place? I mean, I never promised to ride or anything and I'm pretty sure he detested me at first."

Sofia's brow knitted tightly in the middle, as if she were considering an answer that she wasn't 100% sure of. "I don't really know. I suppose the best way to figure out the answer to that is to go ask him yourself." She paused and eyed me carefully. "You should probably apologize before you start asking questions though."

"Yeah yeah. I _know_ _that_." I stared at her in a deadpan and then ruffled her hair as I looked away with a bitter expression. I quickly corrected it, however, with a weak look of appreciation. "Thank you, Sofia."

 _Cedric was right about you._

With thoughts of the sorcerer in mind, and the girl of his interest before me, I couldn't help but let my eyes flicker to the amulet perched preciously around her neck. _It really is a jewel to behold_ , I could just barely hold back my gape of admiration for the magical jewel.

I made up my mind.

"Hey Sofia? Your Amulet… where did you get it?" It was not asked as creepily as probably imagined, I made sure to change my intonation to that of a more hostile one. Sorry Sofie.

"Oh, this?" She plucked it off her chest and gave it a little waggle— completely unaware to my mild animosity— and, if I were Cedric, I'm sure I would be drooling at the unintentional taunt. I nodded in confirmation, swallowing in anticipation of her answer. "Dad gave it to me as welcoming to the family."

"It's very pretty." I smiled softly. "And, it's also very _special_." I let my chin drop pointedly and my eyes sharpen as hers widened with realization. "So I advise you to take _exceptional_ care of it."

She nodded firmly, taking my warning for what it was.

I let the serious air drop immediately and stood back up with a relaxed smile plastered to my lips. "You want to accompany me to the kitchen?"

She hesitated as if deciding whether or not she trusted me, or found my knowledge too dangerous for her to stick around any longer.

I extended my hand to her. "I'll find you a little something sweet." I tempted with hope edging into my tone.

She stared at me for a soft moment and then the trust was painfully evident in the way her entire body released and, like a spring uncoiling, she launched herself and grasped my hand firmly between her little fingers. I nearly gaped, but bit down the arguments of her behavior and how it would doom her in the end. I had already offered her as much help as I was sure I could give her without completely betraying my crabby confident.

 _Too trusting_ , I mentally noted, _that'll be helpful for Cedric later, I'm sure._ I sighed heavily as I led her down the familiar dark hallways.

Whereas it may seem like I support Sofia's side, I'm still not entirely sure a little girl having the amulet is best either. I know that if Cedric ever got his hands on it, he wouldn't irrationally start warring it out with the castle members. No, he's a man of reasonable reason, he would more than likely study it profusely and then heavily debate with himself about what he's to do with it. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't use it at all in the end.

But then there's that chance someone angers him as he is studying it and he lashes out senselessly.

And then there's Sofia, not knowing its true power, she could release something damaging or even let it fall into someone else's hands, someone far worse than Cedric could ever be.

There's a chance of either and I'm not sure what I am to do or who I am to support.

I wish I could just lock it up in a trunk and never let either of them have it. I kind of wish that _it didn't even exist_ if I'm to be completely honest.

My hand unconsciously latched onto Sofia's a little tighter and I couldn't help the strong pulse in my chest that resulted. I smiled as I lead her to the kitchen.

I suppose I'll have to take it all in stride.

* * *

 _Newly Teenaged Emilia blew out the candles on the cake before said cake took to flipping and flying around the room for good show. Cedric, now 21 years old, smiled happily as he guided the flying cake around the room with his fingers._

 _The teenage girl laughed loudly at his poor excuse of a show and made sure to comment on it scornfully between laughs and gasps for air._

 _He frowned and allowed the cake to split itself into pieces before landing on respective plates._

 _"Well, excuse me for trying to give you a show!" He growled uselessly._

 _Emilia ignored him and stuck her fork into the sugary sweet before jamming the cake-covered utensil between her lips. "You may not be the best performer, but you do make a mean cake!" She praised, raising the older boy's sulking state to that of a more amused one as he watched the girl devour his first baking attempt._

 _She had adamantly refused touching the one from the kitchen._

 _When he asked her about it, she didn't share that she had a dislike cake, instead, she just said plainly that she didn't want_ their _cake. When asked what that meant, she refused to say anymore on the matter._

 _Out of curiosity, the boy had taken to the kitchen and decided to see if he had any talent whatsoever in the cooking world, only to find it surprisingly similar to mixing potions. It wasn't that hard._

 _But then he had a cake that he didn't know what to do with, so he took it back to the tower with him._

 _When he was walking down the hall that morning, he managed to pass her room where the door was obtusely open. And, when he peeked around the corner of it, she was hauling the unopened boxes wrapped in pretty papers into the hallway, setting them out by the trash disposal as if to send a message._

 _The boy had a sneaking suspicion about what she was doing, but he wasn't going to voice it. It was her decision after all._

 _But it surprised him greatly when she asked him for a piece. He had honestly brushed off her words earlier for stubbornly not wanting to admit that she didn't like the famously loved pastry. He, of course, said she could have some if she wanted, it's not like anyone else was going to eat it. When the two entered the lab, his father immediately deemed it her birthday cake— despite not having a hand in its baking whatsoever— sticking some candles in it as if to prove his pointed declaration._

 _The littlest princess had tried to protest the title and her red cheeks told Cedric that, once again, she wasn't being her dreadfully honest self._

 _And so he also dove into the role of party host._

 _She had eventually broke out of her ostentation and fell into the role of birthday girl._

 _Cedric did have to admit, she was more fun when she wasn't being modest._

 _Emilia couldn't ever imagine having so much fun on a birthday._

* * *

 _Roland, now 28, sat at his office desk, finally getting the hang of the tedious tasks that came with being king. He had been filling out forms for the most of the morning and happened to look in the direction of the little calendar on his desk. His pen halted mid-signature as he realized his mistake._

 _It was Emilia's birthday._

 _Yes, of course he had Baileywick handling the tasks of getting her royal presents and a small party set up, one that no one outside of the castle even knew was taking place— but he himself usually put a little something extra into it every year. Not that King Roland ever saw his little sister or even knew what she liked for that matter._

She's sixteen years my junior, so that makes her… 13. A teenager. _He calculated silently._

 _Roland knew he had forgotten this year, again. It's just really hard to remember a date for an absent presence._

 _Would he go see her, get her some random present, or just pretend that he hadn't remembered at all and let Baileywick's present suffice?_

 _He pondered it and it distracted him from his forms consistently during that hour. So he went for a walk._

 _In his pensive mood, he managed to make his way down to the end of the castle that her room resided in. He was going to pass her room and he didn't even realize such a fact until he was right over top of her._

 _Her back was to him so he paused and stood there silently as he watched her peculiar actions. She was taking the brightly wrapped up boxes and stacking them in front of the trash disposal._

 _Did she not want them?_

 _Suddenly there was a second pair of footsteps and the king ducked behind the armor accouterments. There was a second figure instantaneously there and the littler girl had stopped in her disposal actions to talk to the figure._

 _"What's that?"_

 _"I was taking my hand in baking."_

 _"Oh! I want some!" She squealed happily, surprising her older brother who was holding his breath in hiding._

 _"Didn't you tell the royal bakers that you didn't want their cake this year?" The faintly familiar voice asked skeptically._

 _"Because I don't." The king peered around the metal sheet in front of him and managed to catch her nonchalant shrug._

 _He looked to the figure she was talking to._

 _It was Goodwin's son… what was his name…? Cefric? Sedriec? Cedric?_

 _Yes, that had to be it._

 _"What are you doing?" He asked her with a raised eyebrow as he looked to the mountain of boxes._

 _"Spring cleaning?" She offered, weakly humorous._

 _"That one was a tragic fail." He deadpanned and then a teasing smile also rose to his lips. "It's not nearly spring yet."_

 _"Can I have cake or not?" She huffed, obviously not finding the humor in his countering joke._

 _"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." He deflated, waving her off._

 _"Why are you making a cake in the first place, aren't you supposed to be the poor excuse of a sorcerer?" She seemed to tease._

 _The younger boy scowled at her and shook his head. "Pick at that one again and you aren't getting any."_

 _She laughed._

Laughed.

 _"It probably isn't that good anyway."_

 _"Then you can't have any!" And he took off into a nonrelenting run._

 _She blinked and paused in her casual walk right beside of where her brother hid. He tensed._

 _"Hey!" And she chased after him, her cheeks puffed up angrily._

 _King Roland the second stepped out from his hiding place, his brow scrunched up worrisomely._

 _Had he made a mistake all of those years ago with that brash command?_

 _He had seen so many miracles in such a short amount of time it was amazing that he was able to think or stand at all._

 _His chest thudded as the tiny figure disappeared altogether._

 _"Oh man. I_ really _have to do_ something _for her birthday this year."_

 _He intentionally avoided looking at the boxes of trash that stood at his side._

 _The question was: What could he do this late already?_

* * *

"So, how much Jiggle-Wiggly pudding did my brother leave for leftovers?" I asked with a hint of amusement. Small talk with Sofia was surprisingly fun as I had discovered during our little walk.

"Dad and James certainly put a hurting on it." She answered shortly with a cringe.

"So there's none left for me?"

"Probably not."

"How much does Amber like it? I'm beginning to think that the love of it runs in the family with a great deal of dominance."

Sofia pondered for a second, her hand going to her chin in the classic pensive gesture. "She's never complained about it."

"Meaning she likes it a lot?" I offered with a bit of a mean laugh.

Sofia giggled into her hands and nodded in confirmation.

I smiled, a bit proud of myself for that one.

"Emil- Aunt Emilia—?" She broke off in her question early, not even sure of how to address me.

"Either's fine, I know I'm not nearly as old as Aunt Tilly or your dad so it must be kind of awkward."

Sofia's face scrunched up in confusion, also confusing me.

"Have you not met Tilly yet?"

She shook her head no.

"Huh. That's a bit weird. Don't worry, my sister has a bit of a mind of her own, she'll show up when she wants to. And what were you going to ask before that?"

Sofia sent me an unsure glance and I didn't know if it was about Tilly or of what she was about to ask.

"Why does Dad always look so sad when he talks about you?"

I shivered as the chills commandeered my skin violently and froze in my steps. Such an innocent voice asking me that? Why?

I looked at Sofia out of the corner of my eye and huffed heavily at her concerned gaze. There was no way I could tell her the truth, so I played it safe. "I'm not sure. 'I suppose the best way to figure out the answer to that is to go ask him yourself.'" I replayed her words back at her and her eyes flew wide in realization.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean—"

"It's fine." I cringed at how steely my voice sounded and softened it considerably before I spoke again. "Let's just get some chow."

She nodded slightly, her expression telling me that her mind was elsewhere.

I huffed as I pulled some leftovers out of the cooler and gasped as I found a _huge_ bowl of _pudding_! I pulled it out and Sofia's eyes widened considerably. "Jackpot!" I whisper-yelled.

I whipped out two spoons while Sofia slid a stool to the counter so that she could reach it more easily.

And we dug in.

"You know, Sofia…" I trailed off, thinking of how to answer her question in the most basic way, without resurfacing old wounds. I can't stand leaving things unanswered, it leaves people more room to go snooping. "…your dad and I spent a lot of time apart as kids. He wasn't the best brother and I suppose that gets to him." I let the spoon drop into the pudding as my eyes slightly clouded over from the memories. "I always admired him, but I avoided him. I suppose there are some misgivings in there somewhere." I gave vaguely.

"Then why don't you straighten them out?" She looked at me innocently and I smiled sadly, the proximity in which we were at making it useless in trying to conceal any expression.

"There are just some things I _can't_ do." I said lowly ambiguous.

"You could always try." Her eyes were wise as she stared up at me. Wide and hopeful.

My tense expression softened and my voice escaped in a small whisper. "Yeah. I suppose that's why I'm here now, Sof."

And I'm not leaving until something changes.

* * *

After killing half the bowl of pudding and most of the remainder of the night, we suddenly froze at the sound of approaching footsteps. Our eyes wide and our small-talk diminished, we scrambled to grab our bowl of jiggly-wiggly pudding and to duck into the lower cabinet that happened to be empty.

I had barely closed the door behind me when whoever it was waltzed in.

The area would have been a tight fit for one fully-grown person, so Sofie and I were squeezed in tightly, side by side, with our knees plastered to our chests and out heads ducked low. I thanked the heavens that my build was small. Yes, I was tall, it's a given that someone in Roland the First's family was tall— except Tilly, and she was teased on that account many-a-times— but I was thin and that fact made hiding in tight spots such as this all the more easier.

There were quiet steps that traveled about the room and a thought suddenly hit me, making me instantly feel like an idiot: this late at night, no one is supposed to be in here. Not even us. So, by that logic, whoever it is that's in the kitchen now is in the same boat as we are and a deal could possibly be in order; the kind of deal that states: I didn't see you, therefore, you didn't see me.

That is, a deal is possible, depending on who it is that's out there.

I listened a moment longer as the light footsteps made their way around the stone floors of the kitchen before grabbing the handle and peeking the cabinet door open. Sofia squeaked a little at my actions and I silenced her with a single finger to the lips as I peered out precariously. The light from the crack creating a line of light in the small closet, I didn't miss the little girl's eyes studying me carefully with a searching eye. I don't know what she was looking for but I currently didn't really care.

"Who's there?" A voice snapped quietly. I saw the fluttering of something purple and realized why the footsteps were so light.

I smiled and climbed out of the cabinet, gesturing for Sofia to climb out of the cramped space as well. She hesitantly followed me, carrying the bowl of pudding.

"Oh, it's you." The source of our previous fears sighed at the sight of us and placed his wand back in his sleeve.

"What were you going to do with that?"

He opened his mouth to answer, his eyes closed proudly, when his voice hitched and he seemed to realize he was talking to me. "It's nothing." He muttered, turning his back to me.

"C'mon! What kind of spell were we almost victim to?" I nearly laughed.

But the glance he sent me made the smile die on my lips and I suddenly didn't want to know. I don't know why he looked so guilty under my gaze, but I stopped pressing for it and looked back to Sofia who was watching the sorcerer with a fascinated eye.

I take it she hasn't talked to him much yet?

"Hey, Sof, pudding, table. Now." I licked my spoon distractedly and she once again climbed up her little stool and placed the giant bowl on the table.

Cedric was looking through the cabinets and coolers, it seemed to me that he had missed dinner as well.

"Cedric." I said sharply. He turned to look at me curiously and I tossed an extra spoon to him. He fumbled with it for a second, being the uncoordinated geek he is, but surprisingly didn't drop it.

I gestured to the giant bowl before Sofie and I, before digging in once again.

He looked between us for a second— I slowly came to realize that he and Sofia were watching each other especially careful— before approaching from the other side of her and jamming his spoon in. "I never did understand why the royal family likes their pudding so. But in this case, the extra quantity is welcomed."

I laughed. "We are going to be in so much trouble tomorrow."

"Not if no one finds out." Sofie giggled.

I looked down at her in surprise and realized that Cedric was amused with her mischievous streak as well.

"Well there you go." He added shortly.

I laughed again.

And, before we knew it, the three of us had annihilated the remaining pudding.

I slightly suspect Sofia of getting more than Cedric and I.

That girl can eat.

And, at our own pace, we retired to our respective rooms for the night; leaving no traces to the crime in our wake.

Roland's going to be so mad.

* * *

 **Emilia has a choice to make somewhere in the future! Mwahaha!**

 **By the way, I am not going to use every arc in the show. I'm just going to use them as kickstarts to plot and then veer off in my own direction until that direction hits a dead end, and then I will rebound back off of another episode that is favored by myself.**

 **I don't really care for the "Just one of the Prince's" episode, it just holds special meaning with me because it's the first episode- first _anything_ I saw of _Sofia the First,_ and I feel that it's important to the series because it introduces what each character thinks of Princess Sofia and her relationship to them.**

 **Anyway!**

 **...To Be Continued...**


	6. Dear Mirror, It's Time For This To Stop

**Dear Mirror, It's Time For This To Stop**

* * *

I shed myself of the obnoxious dress and almost killed myself with the ferocity that I used to shred the laces of the corset.

I was never putting it back on. That's final. As true as the previous fact, I'm also considering throwing it into the flames of the morn.

I glanced to the mirror and looked at the low ponytail my tresses had been in ever since I left the tower.

Then it all crashed down.

The realization of it all hit me in the chest like a two-ton brick making me breathlessly stumble over my own two feet. I steadied myself against the bed post and sagged heavily against it as I was suddenly unable to break eye contact with the little one staring me down in the glassy surface. She was speaking to me, whispering harsh truths, and reminding me of my purpose. Telling me my place.

My heart screamed for her to stop, tears filling my vision profusely. But the salty tears stopped on the edge, for the more calculating side of me took hold and made it perfectly clear that she was right. That _I_ was right. The facts are staring me in the face, their gazes unwavering, I can't _not_ listen to them. The truth of the matter is that I'm slowly becoming more familiar with this crowd, with this lifestyle, with this world so different from the one I belong in. _I don't belong here_. No matter how hard I want to fool myself, I should already know that it'll all end exactly as it did eight years ago: with me leaving.

I went rigid, pulled taut like a rubber band, in an instant. There are many reasons for me to come, and staying was not one of them, it's not what I ever intended to do.

 _I don't like it!_

I won't change my mind so late in the game. I refuse adamantly. Profusely. Stubbornly. _I'm putting my foot down._

 _Just forget your pride already!_

I watched my expression sag sadly in the mirror as my younger version faded away and was once again the ugly person that belonged there. I'm slowly coming to the point of where I don't want to leave. No matter how hard I try to ignore it, the voice screaming in the back of my head telling me to stay— to go— I can't ignore either, making me a very conflicted presence to this earth. I've finally met Sofia and got along famously with her; Cedric and I are still the sparring duo we were before I left; and I'm slowly growing more accustomed to being in Roland's presence.

Three down. Only but a few to go before I leave again. No if, and's, or but's about it.

I still need to connect with Miranda and figure out the ever elusive Amber— and then there's the small matter involving an angry prince.

I sighed and flopped into my bed, now in the loose gown designated for sleep. My arms down by my sides and my face buried deeply into a pillow, it's there that I groaned loudly in frustration, the sound barely escaping as a muffled purr.

I pulled my arms up and placed them beneath me, propping up my head so that I could break the depravity of oxygen.

Sofia told me to talk to the little Roland look-alike, but would that really work? Do boys talk? Better question, do they listen? Will he bother with even listening to my poor excuse of an apology? I highly doubt it, to be completely and utterly honest. He'd probably combust at the idea of having a heart-to- heart conversation with me. Am I being pessimistic? You bet your—

Then it hit me, breaking my soliloquy mid-sentence: If I learned anything from growing up with Roland as a role model, it's that _boys like action_.

I had to take action if I was ever going to get through to him.

I had to physically make this up to him.

I flopped back into position and groaned for the second time, also perhaps the first of many more to come, as I came to a conclusion.

There's only one way to go about it.

I have to, one, go to his flying derby practice.

And, two, also probably the worst thing I've had to do as of yet in my little reacquaintance excursion, I have to… unfortunately...

I have to fly a stupid horse.

* * *

I slid into my loose fitting skirt peacefully starting my day with a small hum of my voice— the gown greatly pleased me, for it lacked any significant fluff and fit rather nicely for the physical actions that I had planned for my day.

Not to mention the bodice was snug and stiff enough that I didn't have to wear the stupid corset.

I looked at myself in the mirror and almost disregarded my naked scalp. The locks were wound up elegantly and tightly as to not let any strands fly loose and it had acquired a tightness that I mistook for the feeling of wearing that _special something_.

I reminded myself of the disgusting syllables that went along with it: "Ti-ar-a. Can't possibly forget that, I'll never hear the end of it if I do." I muttered as I moved closer to the mirror with an odd stare of great intensity. I pursed my lips and looked at my sharp blue eyes, their piercing blue color much darker than plausible when thought of blue eyes, a deep color that look calm, calculating, and dangerous. I couldn't quite put my finger on what was so off about my expression until the fear gripped my heart and refused to unclench. It was intimidating. They were fearsomely knowing and terrifying. It's absolutely frightening. The foreign orbs widened in shock and, suddenly, the effect was gone. My lips thinned and I clenched my jaw in affirmation. My features were the complete opposite of Roland's and Tilly's. Whereas they inherited out mother's soft expressions and rounded features that put people on ease— I had gotten not only our father's sharp structure, from the pointed cheekbones to the smaller nose and naturally narrowed eyes, but his harsh expressions as well: deadly, unreadable, commanding, and alarming.

I looked at the maroon gown that dressed my slim figure. It was nicely designed so that it intentionally looked old. Like, renaissance old. I adjusted the low neck again to hide any unwanted skin and slid into my work boots that the skirt hid famously. I laced them up to my knees and realized with a bit of ironic amusement that I had neglected to put on stockings under my undershorts.

My lips thinned into a fine line as I studied the pale skin of my knees and debated what was to be done.

I threw the skirt back over my legs and slid out of the room with a satisfied smirk, a tiara perched on my crown and hair wound up into its tight bun once again. That's all they are going to get out of me today, I guarantee it. I smiled coolly and, with a little bit of a skip in my step, I made my way to the dining hall.

"Good morning Aunt Emilia!" I turned gracefully covering my mischievous streak as I discovered who else was making their way to the dining hall. I wasn't surprised to see Sofia waving brutishly once again. I stared at her with a hard expression before serenely smiling and waving to the girl racing to my side.

Amber followed suit at a much more appropriate speed.

She whipped out her fan and leered at me over the edge as she passed.

I blinked slowly, my expression remaining aloofly serene. _I'm getting sick of this routine_ , an angry voice hissed in the back of my mind.

I smothered it, to say the least.

I followed the two girls confidently. Sofia, all the while, was looking between her sister and I, her confusion was as plain as day.

However, I feigned ignorance of either of their more-than-a-little-subtle actions as I entered the dining hall, dipping into a slight curtsy when I nearly toppled Miranda.

"Oh! There you three are. For a moment there I almost thought that you were going to skip breakfast _too_ , Emilia." She sent me a knowing look.

I also assumed obliviousness of the fact that she _obviously_ suspected me to being the reason her husband was brooding childishly at his seat. Fun Fact: Being a royal for most of your life makes you an impeccable actress when it comes down to playing ingenuous.

I smiled pleasantly. "You see, that would be highly unlikely, for I am _far_ too hungry after the lack of a meal last night."

She looked at me one last time skeptically before a calm smile graced her lips. "Indeed your logic is fair."

"Miranda! Not you too!" King Roland whined. "It's bad enough that my little sister speaks so that I can barely understand her, but my queen as well." He was sulking heavily at this point.

Miranda and I laughed at his actions. I had to take a moment and lower the tempo to which I was laughing to watch Miranda's bright eyes and miraculous smile. She was so happy, being up on the throne, and not being ridiculed.

It made me think of the previous queen— my mother.

Then there was a pang of guilt at my comparing Queen Miranda with my mother— who she was obviously not— and I shook my head as if to chase away the depressing thoughts.

"I never did ask. But why are you, for the lack of a better word, _sulking_?" I asked my brother as I took my rightful seat by his side, Miranda residing respectfully to the other.

His eyes drooped like a sad dog's as they drifted to my face. I noticed that he didn't even try to answer my question.

"Someone got into the jiggly-wiggly pudding last night, left us next to none this morning." James bit out severely, his eyes not breaking from the eggs he was shoveling into his mouth.

I looked at him and suddenly felt scared to return acknowledgment to his words. But I fought the fear by nonchalantly resting my chin onto my hand and leaning in closer to his side of the table. "Can't the cooks just make more?"

He didn't respond. Didn't even look up.

"I mean," I smiled deviously, "if they can, I wouldn't mind bringing some to the derby practice this afternoon." I offered wistfully.

His arm froze, fork poised midway to his mouth. I saw the muscles in his arm tense and the veins in his neck twitch. I raised an eyebrow, a bit proud of myself.

It appears that I had struck a chord.

"You would forget." He said sharply as he finished the trail the fork was making to his mouth.

"I've never forgotten anything." That felt false the moment it left my lips, but I brushed it off without any more than a second thought.

"Then you're a liar." He countered, not glancing my way.

"I'm human." I hissed lowly as I turned to my own food. "I am physically incapable to fight some urges."

He slammed his fork down and turned to me, bristling with anger. "What does that mean?!" He yelled.

"James!" Roland scolded, startled by the sudden outburst.

I suspect that in his sulking and Miranda's soothing, neither of them had caught the beginning of our conversation.

I took a cool bite of my own porridge, slightly pleased with myself.

He waited, his angry gaze showing signs of uncertainty behind clouded emotions.

"Oh, you didn't know?" I played the innocent card. "I was physically exhausted. Your commanding me around and activating the curse on a _whim_ for the past two days wore me out." I bit out harshly, my eyes glaring daggers at the little boy.

"Emilia!" Roland stood up obviously perturbed by our exchange.

" _Sit down, Roland_." My voice rang out a sharply as a knife.

He hesitantly sat down, his expression slightly fearful and cautious, but still hard and calculating: as if he were processing what could possibly going on between his child and sister.

"I wish to get along with all of you, after all that was my original purpose, but it seems to me that you _don't quite get it yet_. I am not going to _suck up_ to you to earn your _respect_!" I cried indignantly. "Watch your mouths, your expressions, and your mannerisms, _children_. I am your aunt. Your elder. And I deserve as much respect as you can offer. I tried to give you a chance to do it the easy way, your own way, but no more of this. I am trying my hardest but, the next time someone yells out an order brashly at me, I'm leaving. I am leaving and I'm not coming back. You want me to leave? Tell me it to my face and I will comply _gladly_. _Got it_?"

I made sure to make sure to look between Amber and James evenly, and not too quickly to the point that I looked stupid.

They both gulped fearfully and nodded in affirmation.

I noticed Roland doing the same out of the corner of my eye and shot him a confused look. "What are you quivering for?" I asked sharply.

"Y-you always scare me when you get like t-that." He muttered, his cheeks flashing red.

I sighed exasperatedly and noticed Miranda watching me, pride fluttering in her eyes. I looked away abruptly, my own cheeks dusting red.

I looked away, that is, only to be met with the children's eyes.

Sofia's were wide, unreadable, but definitely shocked; James was as flustered as his father; and Amber watched me with a careful eye, as if trying to figure me out without setting off another bomb.

I didn't even realize that I had made a slip of the tongue. I didn't even notice that I had said 'curse' aloud.

And none of the children were planning on confronting me on it anytime soon.

What a smart bunch they are.

If only I had realized it sooner.

* * *

I figured walking through the gardens was my best option when it came to entertaining myself and keeping a careful eye on the time. And what better way than that of watching the goddess of time herself, the sun?

Plus, it's not exactly likely that I'll get bored in gardens such as these. Lost, maybe.

I bent and looked in the eyes of a peculiar butterfly, studying the patterns along its painted wings. _Caligo memnon?_ I pondered for a moment, _or Caligo oileus? There's no doubt in it's being an owl butterfly but the species' markings have always been too hard to distinguish._

I was startled from my calculating thoughts by the impatience of the being that I held as he flew up into the sky and into some trees, disappearing from my disappointed view.

I stood back up and watched where it had drifted to and wandered that way as well— not particularly chasing it, but not wanting it to get away either. It was then that I crossed paths with the foreboding well father always was careful to keep hidden. Long ago there had been an incident with the wooden door and now there resided a metal gate.

No, I was not supposed to know of its existence. But if anyone has learned anything by now, I did a lot of things I was never supposed to— I _do_ a lot of things that I'm not supposed to is more like it.

My steps halted outside the gate, no real desires to enter allowing my fingers to ghost over the frame nostalgically.

 _Riding a horse is about to become another_ , I added coldly.

* * *

 _A few days after the whole derby incident, Roland came home from school in a broody mood. He brushed past his mother silently and nearly shoved Tilly to the ground when she stopped him and demanded that he explain his childish tantrum._

 _The boy merely glared at the youngest one of their family with such venom that their mother called out in umbrage, before he stomped out of the room._

 _No one really knew what that was all about._

 _Later that evening, a still-moody Roland sat out in the gardens, kicking up a flower here and there and throwing any rocks he could pick up. Emilia stood in her gown, her little fingers plastered to the window that overlooked the garden._

 _"Miss?" The maid behind her called out gently, but reservedly, no one dared to encourage the littlest princess to do anything for fear of suffering at the hands of the king's wrath. He was a good man, a strong hand holding up the kingdom and someone worthy of relying on, until you upset him. And it seemed the only thing that could ever upset him was when it involved his children, the youngest especially._

 _She remained silent as she tore her gaze from her angry brother and crawled from the little seat she had perched upon in order to reach it. She looked into the maid's eyes for an unnervingly still moment and the young woman looked away nervously._

 _Emilia climbed into the bed, blew out the candles, and snuggled in comfortably, dismissing the nursemaid before she could even lift a finger in assistance._

 _The littlest girl waited, eyes closed, and lips slowly counting the steps of the maid as she descended the hallway. She waited a few more moments after complete silence and threw the blanket away from her lap._

 _Feet tossed over the edge of the bed, she landed with a muffled thump. Little Emilia grabbed a small shawl and threw it around her shoulders as she made her way, barefoot, over to her door. She peeked it open and stuck her head through, looking both ways before using the power she held over the shadows, and skulking through the hall to the nearest exit leading to the garden._

 _She, knowing the gardens even better than the ones that maintained its vegetation, crawled through bushes and slid through the smallest openings to get to where she had seen the sulky boy heading. Still barefoot, she didn't make much a sound and didn't have to worry about getting caught because of how easy it was for her lithe frame to be silent._

 _She had had plenty of practice in the area and tactics of sneaking around._

 _This left her mind to other tasks; such as wondering as to what in the world her brother was doing outside so late. She came across the giant wooden door that always remained locked, for their father knew of her activities of sneaking around and startling the palace employees— just because he knew of them doesn't mean he liked it and refused to try and stop her._

 _This time she was startled to be met with such an extraneous sight._

 _The door was swung open and a key was still jammed into the lock. Sidling up to it, and looking very much like an animal in the way she skulked around, Emilia slid the key out of the lock and into her pocket._

 _She wasn't usually a thief, it's just that it might seriously come in handy later, like, perhaps in another escape attempt? She doesn't know how Roland got it but she knew he wasn't supposed to have it either, therefore, he can't report it as stolen or anything. Stealing from the thief is a good moral code, right?_

 _She paused as she was just about to waltz into the little hedge-incased room, for that's what is was, with a large well jutting out in the very middle. Had she just entered blindly, her brother would no longer be blind to her tracking and trailing him._

 _But, upon careful examination, this was no mere well. Emilia hugged the door as she peered around it more than a little obviously, watching the golden glow against her brother's face as he peered down it, his amazement not the least bit concealed by his expression. Its golden glow alarmed the little princess a great deal._

 _There suddenly was a thunk of something small being submerged in water and the well erupted with an eerie voice. It was a poem that Emilia, who was not accustomed to magic, couldn't quite comprehend: something about three wishes and riches._

Was that a coin that he dropped into the water? _Emilia thought as she came out from behind the door, fully visible, that is, if her brother decided to turn around._ Unlikely at this point _, she deduced,_ and useless even if he bothered, I've already seen all that's going to happen _._

 _His small shoulders shook with excitement as he pondered the possibilities, he muttered to himself like a mad man._

 _'_ He's a teenager, he's allowed to be a little mad.' _She remembered her mother assuring her once._

 _She didn't really understand it then, but now…_

 _It was perfectly clear._

 _Emilia's expression became sad as she listened to her brother's voice, his statement beginning with 'I wish' as expected, but the rest belonging in a dreadfully depressing category: A villain's._

 _He wished to be king. He wished that that little sister of his didn't get power that she didn't deserve. That tradition would run truer and stronger just for another few years. That the oldest, firstborn son is the heir. He deserves to be king. He worked hardest for it._

 _It wasn't quite the same as a villainous demand out of greed. He genuinely meant it from the heart. He really did deserve it._

 _Emilia agreed. She voiced it as so, sadly, slowly, but clearly._

 _He spun on his heel, his eyes wide in horror as he looked her up and down, not sure of what to do at this point._

 _"You really do deserve to be king. You don't back down, you can hold your own, you're smart, and, better yet, you don't have to follow every command given to you, you don't have to be taken advantage of." She repeated, not sure if his shocked expression was getting more enraged or if that was her imagination._

 _He suddenly narrowed his eyes, his scowl deepening as if sharpening and directing his hate towards her. "This is your fault you know. For being so perfect. Everyone at school thinks dad is making the right decision by making you the ruler of this kingdom."_

 _Her face fell in acknowledgment. "I know. I'm perfect to the onlooking eye, it's designed as so." Neither of them had to elaborate what this 'it' was. "But it isn't me." She broke in suddenly, shocking Roland more than a little with the revelation. "The moment I get the crown I'm going to be at the mercy of all of those commanding gazes. I won't be a ruler but a face for the people to look at, to look up to, while I'm just falling mercy to the words around me." She paused and looked at her feet sadly. "You didn't have to do that you know."_

 _"Do what?" He asked, not sure of how else to respond._

 _"Waste one of your precious wishes on something like that. Dad's smart. A little slow in this case with his logic, but he'll figure it out eventually. That I've been useless since this…_ curse _was placed." She spat the word curse with such venom that Roland visibly recoiled in shock, anger residing in the back of his mind as confusion took a strong hold. "Even if he doesn't realize it, mother has. The sadness in her eyes every time he lights up at the idea of having an obedient child as an heir. She keeps quiet now, but she does care about the kingdom and she will put up heck of a fight before I become ruler." She grabbed her elbow and looked away sharply._

 _"Why are you telling me this?" He croaked._

 _"I don't know. It just seems so sad for you to live bitterly because of something that isn't even going to happen." She looked at him, her chin dipped submissively. "I also planned on passing the crown on to my older brother if none of the things happened like I'd theorized."_

 _That dropped the weight in his stomach like no other._ Be it guilt? _He wondered._

 _She called him her older brother, she still sees him as that? And, more importantly, someone taking the crown from her is one thing, but passing it on before she even gives it a chance is another entirely. She saw him as more than a presence but a better ruler than herself? Guilt overridden, his anger flared like a fire with gallons of fuel._

 _He erupted, spouting useless crap at her, insult after insult, and so much more. She didn't even flinch and he couldn't take it when a small, accepting smile formed on her lips._

 _He lunged, pushed past her, knocking her to the ground, and took off running to his room._

 _Emilia looked at the well. "So many possibilities."_

 _She could even take the curse away and rule the kingdom herself. She'd be lying if she said that the thought wasn't highly tempting._

 _She reached out to run her fingers along the well's stone sides, but stopped millimeters from the cold material. She grabbed the key in her pocket, fisting it tight enough for her knuckles to turn white, she turned, grabbing the wooden door's handle._

 _She pulled it closed behind her and, with a sigh, locked it._

Roland needs it more than I do.

* * *

I looked at the sky and realized that it was about time for the academy to let out so I made my way back to the castle. As I hiked I couldn't help but let myself smile with a bit of excitement at the prospect of doing something as fun as derby riding.

Kids could be mean, but there were still benefits that came from them.

I climbed through the glass door that led out from the patio and nearly crashed into Baileywick in the hallway.

"Whoa there!" I laughed slightly as I steadied the petit man by the shoulders. I took the little container from his fingers and thanked him liberally before taking off once again, heading towards a predestined location.

I found my way to the front of the castle where the stablemen were just finishing up with the tedious tasks of readying the carriage as I had requested of them also this morning. My heart caught in my throat as I raised my foot to the step that assisted my climbing in, and, I hesitated.

I received a concerned look from the carriage driver and waved off the look as I pushed through my fear and climbed into the compartment, sagging heavily in my seat once completely in. I felt the dread creep into my system and evaporate into suffocating excitement as the carriage set into motion.

I never did particularly care for the aspect of royalty that involved Pegasi flying the carriage: the physics of it were shaky at best and provided little acceptance of error. If we happened to slow down, the carriage compartment would drop in altitude. Consistently speeding does not make thing easier for steering, despite belief.

I took a deep breath that rattled my being and closed my eyes to allow for the shakiness of my body to end.

I had no such luck of calming myself down.

I tumbled out of the carriage the moment I felt it halt in its movements and stood up without assistance as I brushed myself off.

It was then that the massiveness of the academy truly rained down upon my bones.

Did I ever mention that I never got to the school my older siblings did? One, it wasn't as highly recommended as it is nowadays and, two, we hired private tutors and had a more-than-adequate library. Give me my lesson plans for the day and I'll be able to take a test on all of them by the end of the week.

Roland never had the fascination with learning that I did and Tilly never found interest in studying by oneself, they didn't want to be 'stiffs' as kids call each other, so organized learning was ordained for them.

I wandered around the school, never going inside, the logic behind that being that they wouldn't be flying the Pegasi inside, now would they? And I must have been correct in the assumption because, not even five minutes later, I heard my name attached with stray comments about being surprised that I actually showed up— I chose to ignore them for the most part, there wasn't much animosity attached anyway.

"Hey Sofia, James!" Sofia smiled brightly at me and, to my greater surprise, James did as well. What a good natured kid, to be smacked back into place with just simple words and actions. "Where's Amber?"

They paused and looked behind them, as if they had expected her to follow. She still wasn't there.

"Prince Hugo." They both deadpanned.

This took me by surprise and I couldn't help the small amount of hysteria that seeped into my voice as my smile lost its happiness. "What?"

"Cheering him on…"

"Swooning over him…" James added with the disgusted gesture of sticking his tongue out.

I laughed in greater amusement than either of them could understand. Only, what, eight? Nine? And already flirting it up? Sure girls advance faster than boys but the boys can't already like that… Can they?

Then it hit me. A ten year old, give or take, has more luck in the relationship world than I. I felt my brow tick in annoyance. If he's a good guy I'm leaving.

"Emilia?"

"Hm?" I looked over at the little boy who looked like he wanted to say something but decided against it last minute and tried to cover it up by pointing to the little container in my fingers. I decided to let him have this one since I did recently scold him. Mend the bonds as they say.

I didn't want to tarnish an already soiled record.

"Ah, pudding. I did say I might bring some, didn't I?" He stared at me, no response in his expression. "I'm sure I did, but then again it could have been all in my head. I do talk to myself more often than the norm—"

"Aunty! Stop!" James yelled, jumping in front of me with his hands outstretched.

I felt my eyes widen as my lips form an embarrassed grimace and my muscles locked up at the command.

He and Sofia burst out laughing, Sofia doing a better job at hiding hers in little giggles behind her hands than her brother did by clutching his stomach and keeling over. I suspect they think I'm timid over my rambling, I suppose that's better than the alternative, than the truth.

"Greeeeaaattt." I rolled my eyes with a dry sense of humor, playing along. "Now I've got you guys laughing at me." I scratched at the back of my head as I looked away, embarrassment growing by the second.

"I'm sorry… It's just," James eyes sparkled with mirth that I had only thought Roland to be capable of, "you're much more realistic than I've heard."

I blinked, taken aback. "What you've heard?"

His eyes scrutinized me a bit longer before sighing and answering heavily. "Dad never really mentioned you, and I supposed it would have stayed that way had Aunt Tilly not accidentally brought you up in a side story. It really surprised her that we didn't know. You seemed so far off, like a myth."

I could help but chuckle at his logic. He's so much like Roland was.

Though, I won't admit this to the children, but the thought that their father neglected to even mention his little sister hurt me. It felt like he was disowning me, that he was embarrassed by me. I almost want to say that is scraps all of the progress I thought we had made.

"So when I asked dad about it and he outright refused to say anything, it put a bit of a wall between us for a while there. Amber and I began asking our friends and asking them to ask their parents and family members if they knew anything about our mysterious aunt. We got back a bunch of nothing." He looked straight ahead as we continued on towards the barns. "But then _we_ did get something back."

"Such as?" I asked, trying, and failing, to hide my eagerness.

"It wasn't anything much. Just that Prince Gustav's mother remembered our grandfather having three children: Aunt Tilly, dad, and another much younger that she couldn't remember the name of. The youngest one was kept and pampered in the castle. She also remembered a whole bunch of rumors going around that our grandfather was going to break tradition because his youngest daughter was so much better suited for the throne."

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say. Was I to confirm his thoughts? Or deny it fervently? I couldn't lie to him, not again, but I really didn't want to make him angry either. It seemed very impossible though this time around, however, I wasn't sure what it was, but he seemed much more tempered than our previous exchanges exhibited.

I looked up as a horse snorted huffily, throwing my hair in disarray. I laughed as I planted a hand between the beast's ears scratching affectionately.

James looked up curiously as he realized that I had stopped moving and smiled in contented amusement at mine and the horse's antics. "That's Echo, he's mine to ride." He explained, much more lax than he was previously.

Suddenly, I realized we weren't with Sofia anymore, I slowly came across the realization that she had only come to greet me and then made her way back to a stouter horse to begin saddling him up.

Which means that she had missed our conversation about my origins. _That's why she wasn't contributing her thoughts and questions!_

"You know, James, it's not all my fault…" I muttered as I watched him lace up the saddle with a bit of strain in his expression.

"Is it true though?"

"Yeah." I answered curtly as I looked away.

"But then why did you leave?"

"Roland let me." I answered impulsively. I almost thought better of it, but it was too late to go back on my words.

I felt the air tense in realization.

"That means—" His voice was breathy as he turned towards me, halting in his work.

"That's enough." I commanded harshly, my eyes displaying a much weaker expression than I wish they would.

His jaw snapped closed. But I could see the pity.

I stood up and grabbed the saddle, giving it a shake. It was snug. "Good job at lacing it all up. I don't think it'll be going anywhere anytime soon."

"You want to ride?" He asked with a bit of a grin on his face.

"Are you teasing me?" I asked with comic indignation.

"Maybe." He laughed, my mind flashed back to a younger Roland in the exact same gesture. "But I'm also partially serious. I'm about twenty minutes faster at setting up than the other boys, so we have about that long until it's time to start. You said it yourself, I laced him up good. Are you saying that you lied to me?"

"You know that's not what I'm concerned with." I shot at him.

"Then why not?" He asked with a shrug.

I stared at him hard for a moment. The gesture was oddly knowing.

I suddenly had to crack a smile, a little bit of humor at his expense escaping me.

"What is it?" He asked, his eyes lighting up as if he wanted a good laugh as well.

"You know, a thought just hit me." I cleared my throat and looked down at him for a moment before swinging my leg over and sitting on the horse comfortably, casually almost. Echo didn't hardly seem to pay me any mind, instead taking to adjusting his feet into a more stable position to take in account for the extra weight upon his back. "You spent how long trying to find out about me. Searching through old records as well as asking around." I met his eyes, completely sure mine were shining in a mocking mirth. "When all you really needed to do was look under your own noses and ask Cedric about it."

James scowled. "Don't remind me. I was upset at seeing that the answers we searched so hard for were right there."

"Is that why you didn't like me at first blush?" I asked a bit too loudly.

"Not particularly. And I didn't 'not like you'. In fact I thought you were really cool. And I bragged… a bit. But then you didn't show up and I… I…"

"I'm sorry. I lost track of time and fell asleep." I adjusted as he took Echo's reigns and led us to the doorway of the stables.

"It's fine. I just wish…"

"That kids weren't so mean?" I offered, completely understanding.

"Exactly." He said slowly, looking as if he were seeing me for the first time. I cocked my head with a small frown, not quite understanding his expression.

He looked away sharply as soon as he realized that I was watching him watch me. "What is it?"

"Nothing." He was quiet.

I reciprocated with silence of my own.

"I have one last question." He tried as we reached the course, also being the first ones there. Just as he had said we would be.

"Shoot."

"Why _are_ you and Cedric so close?"

I frowned at that one and took a moment to think of an answer that was truthful but also left as much out as possible.

I thinned my lips to the side as I reached a conclusion.

"Because Roland and I never were."

And, with a kick of my heels, I was off. My clouded thoughts surprisingly, and thankfully, not weighing Echo down.

* * *

Echo and I were both naturals: I, a natural rider and he, a natural ridden. It was swift, easy, and fun.

We navigated the course pretty easily and as fast as I could ever remember moving. The horse I had been on the only time before this had been older, slower, worn and, ergo, it was not as eventful. This time was on the whole other end of the spectrum.

I had to physically stop myself, biting my lip in result, from dishing out the whoops of laughter and excitement that rang within my being. I leaned forwards to stop the excited spasm that would send me off the back, unfortunately resulting in us going faster, and my excitement building further.

The skirt of my dress whipped wildly behind us, but the light fabrics keeping the whiplash to a barely noticeable minimum. We twisted this way and that so fast that I lost a couple of hair ties and my thick blonde locks trailed behind like flames of speed.

There're too many words and emotions flying through my head, heart, and chest for me to express my joy clearly at that moment. Let's just say that, while riding, there were some unaccounted for drops of rain below, the sky being perfectly clear.

I had gathered myself by the time we approached the bell tower. Originally, I had planned to skip this one because I wasn't sure if either Echo or I were really in any condition to attempt it…

But I couldn't help myself this time around.

We flew up, his muscular wings beating soundly at his side. I'm heavier than most of the others who have rode him have been, most definitely the heaviest he's ever tried to bring up the tower, and the pressure almost made us descend and call it quits— but suddenly there was a clack as Echo's hoof met the stone archway, and another sharp sound, and we flying through. I was shell-shocked to say the least, time seemed to slow as I extended my fingers and hit the bell's rope as we passed it.

The decent made me shake out of my trace and shriek in excitement. I couldn't help but laugh as I tugged the reins and the darker horse settled in the grass coolly. I panted, Echo panted, our hearts raced in time with each other, and my joy seemed contagious in the way his head tilted upwards in pride.

Then everything began to still, the spinning in my head slowing and my excitement becoming more manageable by the minute. And the minutes ticked down.

It was almost ironic at how calm things were now.

James raced up to us, out of breath, and his hands planting on his knees as he attempted to catch his breath. "That… Was… Incredible!" He continued through his pants.

I swung my leg over the horse and slid off, slightly shaky from the lasting effects of exhilaration. I shuddered as a cool drop of sweat traced itself down my back.

"It was fun too." I commented as I sidled up to the nearly collapsed boy and rubbed his back soothingly. "I think it earned you some credits in the school yard as well." I smirked as I peered over his shoulder.

"What—?" He froze as about a half-dozen boys bombarded him with whoops and cries of awesomeness.

I laughed breathlessly as I shook my head and made my way over to Echo to give my thanks for such a great time. I placed my hand on his side and stroked the thick muscles as I made my way to his head, giving him a good scratch behind the ears, which he reciprocated positively to by leaning into my touch.

I giggled slightly at his doggish movements.

"You're a beaut' arentcha?" I muttered, my royal accent dropping momentarily as I became a horse whisperer. The full vocabulary and grammar diminishing in but a few seconds of freedom. My wild locks completely free. So much changed in but a few minutes of freedom.

So many rules broken.

How father wouldn't approve.

And guess what's worse?

This time I don't care.

* * *

 **First off: School is HARD people! Grr. TOO MUCH WORK!**

 **Also, This chapter was... Hard to start... It was awkward editing it and I got a bit stressed out about it, prolonging my posting it. I promised myself that this story would be better than my others because I'm older and a better writer but... I don't quite know. It's missing that _PAZAZ!_ You know what I mean?**

 **But I will admit, the ending made me happy (Everything including the back story and on). I like the little aspects I have going and I plan to make good use of them later on as well. I hope this is coming out as well as I had planned and that you all are enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it!**

 **Give me feedback! C'mon! (Faves and Follows count as well!)**

 **...To Be Continued...**


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